Seductress
by J nds
Summary: "Are we done playing cat and mouse?" He asks seductively, but with a nonchalant edge in his voice. My reply is a murmur, almost a purr in the silence. "I don't think so... And who says I am the mouse?" [AU]
1. One

**Disclaimer : Maid-Sama belongs to Fujiwara Hiro.**

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter one.  
_ —

 _I know about you,_  
 _and yet you're clueless about me._

 _You wonder, ask and give._

 _I read your mind, demand and take what you hide._

 _You think you can protect yourself from me?  
Sorry to disappoint, because I've already set my eyes on you.  
_

—

* * *

—

"So, how are you planning to do that?"

I tear my gaze from the very pretty girl across the road, sitting on the café's patio. Curious marine eyes fixate on my face, impatiently waiting for my reply.

A contained grin spreads on my face. "As always, Aoi."

He frowns, a dip etching between his brows as he pinches his lips together. "She's a girl, Misaki. In case you didn't notice," he spits, before pulling his baseball cap lower on his eyes.

"Ah right," I sigh and slowly rise from the bush where we were hiding. "Just watch, and do your job, Aoi," I say distractedly as I smooth my clothes and lead myself to the stoplights to cross the road. I hear him curse silently as I go but I don't cut my eyes from the beautiful girl until I lose sight of her. It's a wonderful day, all sunny and warm with a touch of fresh breeze, I just can't fail this.

I weave through the crowd before my gaze finally veers on her again. She is all pure, pale and porcelain skin surrounded by long and soft waves of light blonde hair. A lenghty white sundress flows gently with the wind and the hem brushes her ankles, revealing strappy sandals. I haven't seen her face in person yet, but I can surmise that she will look more stunning and yet adorable than in the pictures. An absolute porcelain doll.

The café is slightly packed when I reach the outskirt. Few tables are unoccupied, but my real purpose is not to drink coffee right now. I am a seductress. My job is to charm people and get the evidences. I didn't think that this kind of service existed in the society until I dove right in the field.

And so far, I hold a perfect score. Without a doubt, this lady is going to fit in my success archive too.

I smoothly make my way towards her, circling around her table and slide into the chair facing her.

"Thank you for saving this seat for me," I grin, my gaze down. My hand runs through the strands of the dark short wig I wear before I look at her.

Bright emerald eyes peer up at me and I freeze.

 _Stunning._

She has fine features; her nose straight, neither too big or small; her lips —slightly parted with surprise— are of a rosy pink every girl should be jealous of.

"Uhhh..." she hesitates. A confused look paints her graceful visage. Of course, a total stranger —as I was to her— wasn't expected at her table. Despite it all, she still looks angelic in her shock.

I blush a little, my eyes wide with pure admiration. Partly because I'm not used of such innocent beauty, but mostly since I know it makes my high cheeks more attractive. I control my feature to look as flustered as I can. The art of deception I have perfected throughout the years certainly comes handy in this line of work.

"I forgot to mention... You... You are very lovely," I murmur as I put my ankle upon my opposite knee and relax down into the chair. My eyes linger a bit on her eyes, before trailing the long of her hair, her hands —that hold a porcelain cup to her mouth—, and eventually land on her lips.

She chuckles a little, and I can say, her voice is as delicate as she looks. She's truly perfect and I start to wonder why in hell would someone try to get rid of her. I mean, why break up with such a beauty?

She tilts her head on one side, and smiles shyly. "You look very refined, too."

I smile radiantly, because her compliment sounds very respectful and less edgy than earlier. Of course, I had intel before approaching her. I knew she came from an aristocratic family. Hence why I wore my best gentleman outfit. A crisp dress shirt, blacks slacks and a neat leathered belt. To compliment it all, I borrowed a luxurious watch from Aoi and his shiny wedding shoes.

A sign to the waiter, and he comes over with bristle steps.

"Sir, what can I order you?"

I lift my head, giving the waiter a glance —a young man— before reverting my attention back to the lady, who curiously stares at me.

"Coffee, please. Black."

I dismiss him with a nod, and tap my fingers on the table.

"So, what brings a beautiful lady here to sip tea," I give a pointed to look the cup she holds against her lips, "alone on a Sunday morning?"

Her lips curve slightly upward at my clumsy attempt to pry. "Who says I am alone, now?"

I lift an eyebrow at her answer.

Smooth.

She's unexpectedly smooth with words.

I brush my lips on my knuckles, before biting it shortly with a grin. "Do you regularly accept to drink coffee with a perfect stranger?" I ask.

"It's rare..." she voices, bringing her palm up. She lays her breathtaking eyes on the small silvery watch, adorning the inside of her wrist. "It happened once, and it was... Soon to be eleven in the morning."

My gaze wants to flick up to the timepiece fixed on the café's mural facade but I refrain myself to. It'd be too reckless and obvious. Before I could find any other alternative, I hear a heavy ring that resounds in the area. It echoes eleven times, the telltale tone of a church bell.

I chuckle, and she watches me with a silent but knowing smile. "Makes it eleven now, I guess," I laugh.

—

Half an hour later, I gesture to her that I have to go. But before that, I effortlessly make her give me her name —Erine— and contact info. A kiss on her fingers for a farewell and she blushes ever so imperceptibly. I still notice it though.

I rise from my seat and motion to leave, but after a step, I feel a light tug on my sleeve and look back. She's still on her chair and waves me closer.

"Missing me already?" I tease. She looks poutingly at me, before yanking me to her. The motion makes me tumble but I shift and bend down to regain my balance. She's unexpectedly bold, even though we are in a public area. That makes me feel all kind of tingly.

Her soft lips whisk my ear and when they move, a shiver runs down my spine. "Tomorrow, same hour..." she whispers, before releasing me.

I slid my hand along the backrest of her chair. It traps her against her chair when my other hand sets on the table.

"Certainly." My voice is all but an murmur against her cheek, and I leave a chaste kiss upon it. I stand back, a kind smile playing on my lips, and step away in the crowd without a look back.

The avenue is full of people as I walk down it. Far enough from the café, I spot Aoi, sitting on a bench under a tree with few other passersby. A leather bag is on his side and I grab it with a fluid motion, without anyone witnessing my move. I can see a faint grin on his face as I stride past him without us exchanging a single word or look.

I round the corner and change roads, before slipping inside of a public restroom stall. When I emerge out of it, I'm back to being myself. A cap on my head, my raven long hair flows freely in the wind. I'm now dressed with a pale gray hoodie, faded jeans and sneakers. Without wasting time, I make my way back home.

—

The second I open the front door, I hear water running in the bathroom. A pair of shoes is haphazardly discarded in the front door's way. Bending down to put them on the side, the door closes behind me with a secured click. I'm greeted with the usual mess that is the room Aoi and I share. Twin beds studio, clothes, wigs, photographs everywhere along with other belonging here and there. It's truly a battlefield. Running on barely few hours of sleep, I'm too tired to tidy up the room.

I spot his decent camera on his bed and taking it, I flop down on his mattress.

Pictures don't lie. The screen lights up and the beautiful women from earlier smiles back at me, her emerald eyes shining with delight at whatever I've been saying right then. Or mostly, been asking right then.

People usually only talk about themselves. They act as if they're interested in our lives, even though it's all the opposite. They want us interested in their's instead and hope we'd return the question.

I've learnt that a long time ago. It's not hard to plaster a gentle but focused smile, intent eyes and nod now and then —to give them your approbation. It's not hard, and it's what I've been doing with most of my target.

The initial flirt, and then, they'd spill their lives to me.

Unfortunately, I already knew everything about them, so I could tell when they lied.

And lies were something they often performed.

Was it their parent's occupation? Their siblings? The education and major scholarships they attended?

I found out that they'd lie about things they were ashamed of and weren't willing to admit. And I didn't understand where those uncertainties came from. Why would you say that you were studying medical sciences when you were majoring in art school?

Why would you say that your sister or brother was an athlete, when in fact, the only thing they had was a heavy illness that restrained them to the hospital?

I understood how few things could be left aside, such as the fact that your family wasn't in its best health; but why would you build up a lie that supposed all the opposite, then?

I didn't see the point.

That's how I sorted my targets into the honest and dishonest categories. By their lies.

"Did you see the pics?"

Aoi's voice pulls me out of my daydreaming state.

I get up and move to my bed because he shoo's me away with a wave of his hand. "Yeah, they're good," I affirm.

"Really? Because I was pretty much grossed out by your performance, so I dunno how they came out to be," he says, his voice muffled by the shirt he's pulling over his head.

I throw him a cushion, but he dodges it by diving down on his bed.

"It's not my first time having to seduce a woman, you know."

He turns around and face me, the cushion launched earlier cuddled against his frame. "I never saw it, though." He rolls and rests on his back. "But I guess it's less dangerous than with men, so maybe it's all the best."

His voice sounds contemplative and coated with silent regrets. Aoi's the one that suggested me to his employer. Thanks to him, I landed this job, because I had no money to attend to University and he knew I needed some. I had no idea he was actually into this kind of shady jobs, but I accepted nevertheless. We both thought I'd be taken as a photographer, just like Aoi's situation but it wasn't the case. I had to dive right into the spotlight since they needed people in this role. And thus, together, Aoi and I became some kind of duo where he would take the evidences and I'd showcase them to him. We were most of the time paired together, even though the arrangement we received sometime made us work apart of each others.

Despite all appearances, there were rules to these assignments.

They come in manila envelopes with all the data about the target. Several pictures, certificate of birth, and full basic knowledge about their occupation, families and lives. But we have nothing giving us the reason why we have to do it. They said it was to make it easier, so our feelings wouldn't be involved. Maybe they were right, I don't know. I didn't dwell on it much longer than a week or two.

Each assignments have a time limit on it, and we're supposed to complete the task before it expires. We can't stay in touch for more than 14 days with the subject; and in case the pursuit held no results or if any suspicious resistance arose, we would immediately contact the adviser for a change of tactics —they usually replaced the person in charge then.

It happened a time or two, but no big deal. They made the process go smoothly —without blame— and I never heard of it again.

Another expletive we have to follow is to change our appearances and names with each cases. We have to be secretive about it, because the more we use one appearance, the easier it is to retrace our background and whereabouts.

Luckily, Aoi is a big fan of disguises and all, so it's not much of an issue to me. And the money I make is enough to build a new identity from ashes so it's not much of a bother either.

My hands are still on Aoi's camera when I surge from my thoughts. And I get lost in the pictures he took during the encounter with Erine —the angel's name— until sleep dawns on me.

—

One week later, and my part of the deal is totally secured with Aoi fast behind my feet. I can imagine the camera's shutters as he snaps pictures of Erine with her arms tight around my neck, her lips only inches from mine and her eyes lovingly gazing at me. My hands rest on her waist and even though I feel like it's the end, I don't mind giving her what she's expecting me to.

I've been through so much worse —appearance-wise— that it doesn't even make me shudder to kiss a girl.

So I bend down and brush my lips against her. It's pure softness, and before she attempts anything else, I lean back and smile at her.

Her gaze is dreamy, and I can't help but find myself worried about her innocence. Hell, if it's been this easy to get to her, I hope she won't get abused later in her life. I internally shake off my affectionate feelings, because getting involved is not a smart move.

"When will I see you again?" she asks longingly.

I tuck a strand of her curled blonde hair behind her ear before replying. "That's for you to decide, dear," I smile, even though I know that she won't ever see me again. Her week-worth prince charming, named Naoru, will disappear to bubble within the next minutes.

"I will call you, then. Is that alright?"

"Of course."

And with that, she flies back home like a lovely hummingbird. As for me, I walk to the opposite direction, and pull my phone from my pocket to trash the cheap prepaid SIM card down the first public bin I see. Wordlessly, I put a new one inside.

 _It was nice to meet you, Erine._

This time, I stroll down the main road before diverting to a side tracked alley. I drop my dress shirt, revealing a blouse underneath, slip on a long and breezy skirt that falls right under my ankle —so I can slide off the slacks I wore— and lose my wig. I shove all the discarded items into a duffel bag that was initially folded in my pocket and make my way out to the deposit shop, a block further. The locker number 1607 opens on a classy sachel bag, ballerina flats and an ample sunhat.

Trading the duffel bag, I put my new hat and shoes on, slipping on some elegant and feminine sunglasses I found in the handbag. Several other accesories, such as a fine and delicate watchwrist, jewelries and perfume are quickly put to use. A dab of sweet-rose lipstick and I am out on the sunny road to my next target.

A charismatic bachelor, with eyes a velvet emerald even deeper than Erine's.

Usui Takumi.

—

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** _

_I'm so thrilled to start another story, even though I don't have much time to update, I just don't want to lose or forget my ideas!_

 _Hope you like this foretaste and hope to hear from you =) !_


	2. Two

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter two.  
_ —

 _Your eyes are a world of passions to me.  
And when I stare in their depth, I see the most beautiful things._

 _Tempting me in their allure, I am afraid to be your captive._

 _What should I do when I lose myself within them?_

—

* * *

—

As I pace down the road to my next location, I send a quick text to my partner in crime —which is sadly, not Aoi— to inform him of my whereabouts.

 _Central green square. Front of Apcore's building. Sunhat with blue-ribbon._

When I reach the plaza, a wide open space of light gray concrete in front of several corporations' main offices, I look around before taking my sunglasses off. Nothing seems out of place, so far.

I set down underneath a tree's shadow and lean on the stonebrick curb. There are few people around, mostly eating their lunches and taking a smoke. They all seem to be oblivious to my presence, and that's a given, since it is a common public place. We don't give much attention to the strangers and passersbys we happen to see after all.

And thus, I slowly merge with the surroundings, taking out a drawing block from the satchel bag and a pencil. I browse through the content with slight interest. Aoi's skilled sketches of architectures and cities landscapes greet me and I can't help but feel a little admiration. He's good at what he does, and I'm thankful to have him in my life.

My phone buzzes right after that thought.

 _In view. All set now._

I give a little nod in the emptiness, but I know that he got my sign loud and clear since his camera's on me. I rise from my spot and survey the place. That's when I spot him.

Casually walking out of the Apcore's automated glass doors, he's talking with two other executives. Tall, his build slender but manly, he carries a paper cup of coffee in his hand and it's all I need to carry out my act. Clad in their dark business suits, they send out an aura of power and influence compared to the other employees in the area. It's not the first time that I had been needed to captivate the kind of entrepreneur men, but I can't help but feel a little out of place.

Work is work. Slipping on my business mask, I step out to the group walking to the other direction.

Everything's a facade; the way I walk, my hurried expression, the quick but hasty glance to my wristwatch. With a clumsy pretense, I bolt in the middle of the plaza as if I'm late for an appointment. My eyes are focused on the sketchbook I still hold in my hands even though I'm watching from the corner of my eye the group that's nearing closer with every seconds.

I stop right in the middle of their way, before pulling out my phone as I dial my partner's number under the name of Aren. As if told to turn left, I do and collide against a hard chest with a huff. I lose my balance, fall forwards on my knees and I hear the flutters of paper as I stumble to the hard ground. Confused gasps and silent curses can be heard as my gaze stays on the concrete. I promptly recover and gather with hasty motions the sketches that escaped the pad.

"Uhhh... I'm sorry," I mumble apologetically. One of the man helps me to stand up, his hand curled around my arm. He looks like an European and I thank him with a little smile. He shakes his head, saying that it's no harm before releasing me. I dismiss him with a nod and revert my attention to my target.

Deep forest eyes pin me down with a nonchalant flicker.

He is utterly charismatic, but that doesn't matter. Regardless of how sharp his jawline is, how his sandy blonde hair flows messily but attractively on his head; it's the least of my priorities. Or even how good he fills that suit with his broad chest. Not. My. Problem.

Because he looks aloof and that makes me pissed off in the inside.

"Are you going to stay here and gape at me for much longer?"

His voice is a low murmur when he speaks. The way he paces his speech makes each of his words carry weigh and influence. An indifferent expression covers his features, stiff with slight disapproval. He looks down at me, his brows lifting up as if asking me _'are you done yet so we can move on?_ '.

I feel my throat tighten at his display of dominance. _Conceited prick._

My blood boils in my veins as I bite the inside of my cheek to temper myself. I smile sweetly even though my heart beats like it wants to go and tear his sandy hair apart.

"Uhh... I'm confused," I say innocently, looking as well-intentioned as possible. I think the men alongside the prick —that is Usui Takumi— soften a little bit.

"He was just asking if you were alright," a husky voice asserts. _Yeah, of course, and you should probably get your ears checked_ , I internally roll my eyes _._ I look at the one who just spoke and my eyes touches the face of a man with a feral grin and eyes of a dangerous gold. His posture is akin to one of a lazy tiger.

"I'm fine, thank you," I respond politely. "And I'd like to apologize for—..."

"Gentlemen, enough time lost here," Usui Takumi cuts in the middle of my sentence. He swiftly paces past me without another word as I stay here, overwhelmed with astonishment. The two others give me a contrite smile before stepping away.

Well, I now understood why he had never been seen with a woman on his arms. Who could stand such a jerk? With my teeth clenched together, I furiously make my way back home without even bothering to send a text to my partner.

Evidences are clear, and they do not speak well in my favor.

—

"Oh God, he's such a jeeeeerk!" Aoi laughs delightfully at my misery. He curls on the wooden floor between our two beds, rolling on it in his laughter. Paying no care to the beer bottles littered on the cramped space, he knocks an empty one down with his showdown. Apparently, it cracks him up to know how lamely I've failed.

I cast him a glare. "Don't even dare to get on his side," I warn him, my finger pointed at him with blast. "Does it hurt to even ask a lady if she's fine? Ughhh..." I slur, the alcohol getting to me. My head rests heavily on my bed as I sit against it, Aoi's shaking body right in front of me. "I damn want to kick you, like right now, Aoi. Who knows, maybe it will make my anger steam off," I menace with a scowl.

He turns to me, before cuddling my legs into his arms, blocking them in case I'd call on my own bluff.

"Geeez," he stutters, more buzzed than I am. "Come'on, you know, maybe he just had a bad day. You only tried to get him once." He sleepily crawls up and puts his head on my lap as he rolls over. My hands automatically thread and clutch his short dark hair. "Even though he sounds like a total bastard. I'd love to meet him," Aoi taunts and I tug on his hair in retaliation. "First man to ever disdain Misa-chi..." Slowly, his voice flutters to only a whisper before his heavy lids close on me.

"Maybe you're just not doing it the right way, who knows," he eventually murmurs.

—

We both wake up on the floor. My head is in the crook of his neck as his arms are swung haphazardly on me. Blinking, I feel the soft light of the sun streaking through our pale yellow curtains. I blink once more, before sitting up and Aoi groans when I shift.

"Where are you going?" he moans hoarsely as he rolls onto his side to shelter his face from the sun.

I climb up to my feet and slowly drag myself to the bathroom. "Out for a morning run."

"Get me breakfast when you come back," he grouses before crawling to his bed.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm all clean and fresh after a quick shower. I brush my teeth and make my way to the kitchen for water and an apple. Aoi's still asleep and I leave him a bottle of water on his bedside table before leaving.

Running has been an escape for me in my younger years. Whenever I felt like life was going wrong, I took some time to run and to clear my thoughts. Today, it is with a mind full of that handsome but unbelievably unpleasant blonde that I make my five miles. With a sprint at the end —merely imagining stomping on his face with each steps makes it easier—, I relax from all the pent up frustration and negative feeling I held for the past 24 hours.

On the way back home, I hit the bakery to buy some donuts for Aoi.

He's still sleeping when I arrive and I drop his breakfast on the kitchen counter before sending a text to Aren —my partner. He replies in a heartbeat that he's up as well as ready, and it's with a refreshed state of mind that I tell him my next plan.

—

With a delicate updo, white lilies clipped in my hair and a white sundress that falls right under my knees, I enter into the Central Academy Salon. Today's collection is mainly focused on contemporary arts and I wander through the galleries with ease. I've been here several times with Aoi before, so I know my way inside of the vast edifice. There are many wealthy heirs and affluent personalities in here that buy fancy paintings without second thoughts.

Unsurprisingly, I spot the tall blonde's broad back in the mingling crowd. He's talking with an agent about the piece of art right in front of him. The conversation appears to be mainly one-sided as the agent rambles a monologue about the painting he desperately wants to sell. I can tell annoyance from one's posture, and Usui Takumi is tense enough to notice it without difficulty.

I check my phone and Aren's message pops up saying that he's right after me. I don't recognize him, but I can feel his presence following me.

This time, a direct approach is the last thing on my mind. I turn around the corner, crossing the blonde's sight without meeting his gaze. He probably caught my profile as I swiftly cut across the room because I feel him shifting in the corner of my eyes.

Did I hit his curiosity yet? I wonder...

Without a back glance, I disappear from his sight down to the second area of the exhibition. A shiver runs down my spine when I recognize his deep and smooth voice fawn over my shoulders.

"Twice in two days? It can hardly be a coincidence."

I smile to myself, because he took the bait. Clearing my expression, I elegantly spin around to face him.

He greets me with the same aloofness he wore yesterday. I don't answer anything, and slowly amble to the next painting.

Men don't like to be ignored.

I can feel his presence behind me, and it unsettles me a little. I don't let it get over me though, because I can't afford a failure again. The classical music filling the room and the audience's murmurs vibrate in the air, covering the wired silence of our empty conversation.

He takes a step closer, and the fabric of his expensive jacket brushes against my bare shoulder. For a thick second, I want to step away but I ground myself into the soft carpet, my heels digging into the lavish fur without remorse.

"Interesting choice," he alleges. My gaze focus on the painting in front of me. Bi-chrome themed painting. It strikes me how much it can tell if I happen to identify myself to it. I dismiss the thought instantly, because I'm threading on dangerous waters if I keep going this way. The mask that is my pretense can't afford to break by any cost.

I pace away with feline grace, gliding through the guests to the depth of the collection. He follows me like my shadow with equal agility. When I hit the bottom of the selection, I notice how disperse the area is, how dark the lights decline.

I trapped him.

Or did he trap me?

I'm in the middle of the last collection's room when I turn around and find him feet away from me, leaning against the open doorframe. The room is empty of both painting and guests save for the two of us.

His fit body flexes when he moves as he eyes me down intently, a glint in his calculated gaze. He's cunning in all his splendor and I feel strangely cornered.

It's with confidence that he slowly strides to me.

"Are we done playing cat and mouse?" He asks seductively, but with a nonchalant edge in his voice.

I stare back at him, locking our eyes together and step inside his space. My head slowly tilts back as his bends down to keep eye contact in my progress. Palms lightly skimming across the expanse of his chest, I lightly press them against his hard ridges. He takes his hands out of his slacks' pocket and right before he holds me by the small of my back, I pull away.

A whisper of his fingertips tickles my waistline in my fleeting escape.

"I don't think so..." I murmur and it's almost a purr in the silence. Taking two steps back to regain an appropriate distance, I recollect my wits. We're both playing a dangerous game, and we know that. The tension only rises with our provocative demeanor.

One of his eyebrow raises. His lips slightly curl upwards with faint amusement when he closes the gap between us.

He allows a slow smile to spread on his feature, and it's bewitching to see. "And what would the mouse do when it is caught?" He speaks slowly, as if he has all the time in the world to savor this moment when he inches nearer. My heart starts to race at his proximity.

"You're all talk, but no harms." Taunting him, I also step closer with a devious grin.

Before I know it, he pins me up into his strong arms, my front plastered to his. My feet barely touch the ground as he holds me in place and I find no relative escape. Taking a sharp inhale, I instantly regret it because his refined cologne invades my senses. My eyes are ensnared by his when my hands press on his torso for leverage.

"Really?" he asks diligently. It's a rhetorical question he slides here, because we both have the answer already.

He knows I'm flustered. But two can play this game.

"Yes. And who says I am the mouse?"

With a semblance of temptation, I deliberately tear my gaze from his eyes. Slowly, —ever so slowly—, I trail down his charismatic features and halt on his sensual lips. How would he kiss me, were he to do it right now?

 _With feral hunger?_

 _Or gentle affection?_

I let an audible gasp escape my lips, as if caught of wrongdoing before flashing my eyes back to his. Unwanted warmth surges up to my cheeks and colors them with a cherry pink.

My act strokes his ego. I can practically feel his body humming with satisfaction under my touch. His hold on me tightens, and I'm too busy trying to push him away that I don't notice his head dipping down to my neck. I hiss when I feel his nose trace a path up to my ear, leaving my skin sensitive in its wake. His lips pause right over my ear, and I shiver uncontrollably when he speaks lowly.

"Your smart mouth might lie, but this," he bites down the shell of my ear and I give out a surprised cry, "—does not lie."

I immediately struggle in his hold and he releases me, not without a low chuckle at my reaction. With a scowl, I saunter away from him, a semblance of pride coating my escape, despite the fact that my senses are all jumbled in the inside.

I arch my eyebrow with aversion. "What a charming line," I mock. His chuckle stretches into a bold grin.

I don't give in, and deliver the best detached expression I can as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Do women swoon all over you when you deliver that kind of approach?" I inquire as I leisurely pace around him to reach the exit. I hope he doesn't detect my intention to leave. Following me with his eyes, we both act out on a sudden whim.

I bolt for the door as he shots back and blocks it with his frame, his hands stalling on either side of the doorframe. It'd almost be funny if we weren't being so cautious and edgy.

"Quite desperate, aren't we?" he provokes with a knowing smile. "Afraid of how much my said 'lines' affect you?"

"I could return the offense," I spit with demure assurance. "Perhaps are you afraid that you won't ever see me again?"

A glint of approval shines in his eyes. "I would really love to bite that mouth of yours." His shoulders sag down as he loses his hold on the door. "Just to know if it would taste as sweet as the bitterness of your words..."

I pinpoint in the background an individual intent on browsing the room Usui blocks, and it's just perfect to call his bluff.

"Try me," I smirk, before stepping backwards with bristle strides. He slowly disengages from the entryway but before he can take a step towards me, someone clears his throat, signaling his presence behind the blonde predator. I beam with mischief when I see the realization of my trick dawn on him. His emerald eyes darkens on the spot as he wordlessly moves away. I swiftly retreat towards the stranger. Faintly, I notice he wears a blue tie the same color of the ribbon I had on my sunhat and I smile at the recognition.

 _Thank you, Aren,_ I acknowledge internally, before I flee past him and mingle back in the safety of the crowd. Far, far away from the wild eyes I just had on me.

—

It's barely late afternoon when I get back home. Aoi's absent, the pillows on his bed messily scattered apart. I plop down on my bed before dialing Aren's number.

A firm voice answers. "Aren."

"It's Misaki," I reply briefly. "Did you get anything?"

"Could only get back pictures actually, so I guess not." His report makes my heart sink in my chest.

"Well, alright. That's too bad though," I bitterly laugh. He approves and we hang up.

Not wanting to replay in a loop what happened in the Art Salon, I busy myself with house chores. This stratagem to evade my recollection of the simmering green eyes and deep husky voice works as much as it can.

It's dinner time when I finally finish and tie the last garbage bag I filled with junks. Right on the mark, I hear the door unlock and open on a tired Aoi. He carelessly puts down his messenger bag and gets rid of his shoes with casual indifference. It's when his gaze falls on the neat and tidy apartment that he realizes that I am glaring at him for his behavior.

"Sorry, sorry, Misa-chi," he says, and quickly bends to righten his mess. "What's there to eat?" He asks to himself, as he strolls to the fridge.

I totally am an useless cook so I always leave the food up to Aoi. And half an hour later, I'm glad, once again, to have him in my life. Delicious scent of meals fills the room and we dig in without much delay as we share our day.

The next days, I don't try to meet the infamous Usui again, and keep going with my usual way of life. A footing the morning, researches in the day, and the completion of few other tasks and cases in my free time. Because I don't want our encounter to look that unnatural, I let a day or two flow by. Aren and I keep track of his moves nevertheless, and thanks to shady means, we have our hands on his full schedule for the two next weeks. Which is more than I need.

 _I'm hoping to finish this in one week, but perhaps will I need a few more days_ , I text Aren, —just to be on the safe side.

I note down that Usui has a trip planned to the main city in about a week, before putting my researches on hold. I dress casually, far from the upscale style I put on when I'm undercover and make my way out to Aoi's auntie café.

It's his birthday, so they prepared a surprise for him. Of course I had to go, and for nothing in the world would I miss my best friend's —and who I consider as my little brother— birthday.

—

When I arrive, it's already dark and a few customers remain in the shop. I stay in the back of the café, preparing the several gifts pilled in the closet. Satsuki —Aoi's auntie and the manager of the café— shoo's me out to the main dining room when she closes the front door. With the help of the other waitresses, whom I'm familiar with; Erika, Honoka and Subaru, we put on the various decorations in place.

We're nearly finished with all the birthday's balloons when I hear a gentle and feminine laugh behind me. It oddly reminds me of someone, but I can't place the voice on a face right away. Only when I turn around and see a flutter of long and curled light blonde waves does it strikes me.

Erine.

I immediately turn back, afraid my face would remind her of someone she became infatuated with, a week ago. What the hell is she doing here?

"Something's wrong, Misaki?" Subaru asks me, as we were folding paper garland for the walls. I silently shake my head and smile to reassure her.

"Everything's alright," I whisper.

She frowns. "Why are you even whispering?"

Before I could answer, a light tap touches my shoulder and I dread turning around. I abruptly crouch down and moan painfully.

"Urghhhh, my stomach is killing me! Sorry I need to..." and before I finish, I bolt to the restrooms. On the way there, I spot Aoi, who has just gotten here. I hastily drag him down with me to the toilets.

"What the—," he chokes. "Misak—..." I clamp my hand on his mouth before he speaks any further and lock the door behind him.

"We're in damn big trouble!" I sputter-whisper with frantic gestures. "Oh God, how can it be? We're dead dead dead—..."

He stops me in my endless pacing and whisper-shouts back, "What the hell is going on?!"

"Erine!" I urge him with panic. He looks at me, confused.

"Who? What? Erine?"

I want to slap him and then slap myself because I could have explained the situation in a few words but freaked out instead. I can't help it nonetheless, so I keep freaking out on him.

"Erine! Like... E, R, I..." I start spelling, my heart falling down and beating up against my chest. Even my heart is confused, see?

"I got it, I got it, Erine! But who is she?!" Aoi pins me from my restroom-patrol and gently shakes me.

I take a deep breath because the situation is really getting out of hand even though we could've dealt with it so much better. "The angel, blonde, long waves, curls. The case a week ago we took together! She's _HERE_!" I scream in silence, because if I really do scream, we're busted.

And then, I take Aoi's expression. And he finally gets it.

His eyes widen and widen, and widen... and then color drains from his face as he looks at me with a terrific expression. His mouth opens, closes, to eventually open again.

"We. Are. Totally. Fucked..." he says.

I can only nod in dreadful approval.

—

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _Thank you for your support and lively thumbs up!_  
 _I'm glad you guys hold interest in my story, and I hope it keeps you on your toes! ;D !_

 _LOVE YA!_


	3. Three

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter three.  
_ —

 _You're such a mystery to me._

 _Each pieces are enigmas and riddles on their own._

 _I turn and twist; analyze and estimate._

 _Reading between the lines,  
I feel so close to the truth._

 _And then, I realize..._

 _How can I even solve you when there's no solution?_

—

* * *

—

When I come back to the party, it is with a surgical mask over my face and thick red rimmed glasses. My bangs hide most of my eyes when I tilt my head down, but Aoi and I don't want to risk it.

What would be the probability of Erine recognizing me?

Given how much we've bore into each other's eyes when we 'dated', it was wise to assume the worst...

"God, Misaki, what's with you?" Honoka chortles with hilarity when she sees me.

I cough as realistically as I can. I'm not very often ill, but I play my part with perfect duplicity. Deceitfully, I choke on my own breath when a few other pair of eyes land on me.

"Whoa! You were fine a few minutes ago, what happened, Misaki?!" Subaru prompts as she comes around and rubs my back.

My thoughts race in my mind for a plausible excuse. "Allergies... I just ate something and..." I let another fake row of cough take me.

"Alright, alright," she soothes me, and I see Satsuki's worried gaze on me. "But what are the glasses for?"

 _Gosh, Subaru. Why are you making this so hard on me?_

"When she gets her allergy's fits, her eyes become sensitive," comes Aoi's voice. Everyone freeze because he wasn't expected. Hell, I didn't even tell him about the party. I turn around and realize that he also took his precautions. Blonde curled wig with a frilly dress was his outfit after my outburst in the restroom.

What happens then is all but frenzy. Aoi's yanked back into the kitchen area, the lights goes off and everyone take their posts.

When he steps back for some sort of take two in movies' realizations, the room explodes in roars of _Happy-18th-birthday's_ and _Surprise-Taadaa's_ as the lights flash back in. Confetti are flung, popping out with a loud ovation and claps.

Aoi feigns surprise for two drawn-out seconds before he sneers with confidence. "Thanks, thanks. I'm as surprised as I were, all the other years."

And we all laugh merrily at the utterly failed —but still meant to be— ambush party.

Champagne is handed out as we eat the delicious cake prepared by the cook. Well, with my mask, it's hard to do, but I still make it nevertheless all the while turning my back to Erine. When everyone tease Aoi of having his first alcohol drink today, he carelessly divulge that it's not the first time he had some. Satsuki reprimands me but I joke my way out of it. A decry of _Booo's_ and disappointed-tease comments are thrown at us. They are harmless pestering, and it feels good to spend some time in their lively company again. When I see Subaru holding a flute of champagne to Erine, I shot out and block it.

"She's not legal yet!" I quietly hiss with wide eyes. Both Satsuki's and Subaru's eyebrows lift with surprise.

"How do you even know that?" They both inquire and the crafty Honoka points out with a smirk, "you didn't stop Aoi though..."

I can't tell them that I remember all the data about Erine; that she barely is seventeen this year. Before I find any comeback, a soft voice begins to talk behind me.

"Uhh, it's alright." She acknowledges me with a thankful nod. "She's right, I can't drink yet so..."

Still, the other won't let me get away that easily. "But Misaki, how do you even know that?" Three pairs of utterly nosy eyes are slanted on me as Erine's soft gaze lingers curiously on my concealed face.

I shrug. "Look at her, she looks so young... An angel like her can't be legal anytime soon," I smile.

Erine's eyebrow quirks up at the nickname I give her.

 _Angel._

Very, very familiar. The habit just rolled out of my lips and I curse silently, wanting to punch myself for my indiscretion. I immediately slip out of the conversation with an uneasy smile to run to Aoi. He's opening his presents and greets me with a smile.

"Thanks for the Caran d'Ache mechanical pencil, Misa-chi," he says gratefully. "Wanted it for years!"

His gift wasn't hard to find, but it didn't come as very cheap. That doesn't matter though, because I'm pleased he loves it and I grin with enthusiasm. His joy is infectious.

The party goes on with me avoiding Erine all night long.

She finally leaves while I'm hiding in the restroom. I tear off the mask with alleviation and take those absurd glasses off. When I emerge out, I feel so much better.

"Well, well, see who has recovered," Honoka grins.

I shoot her a devious look and saunter away to stuff myself with the cake's leftovers.

The room is a mess to witness. With sluggish motions, we put everything in order and prepare to leave. Satsuki takes me aside.

"Do you know Erine, Misaki?" she asks silently. Her tone makes me anxious because Satsuki never speaks with a soft and secretive voice.

I shake my head. "No, just met her today," I lie.

She pauses and stares at me for three long seconds, before what she believes is genuine concern pacifies her. "Alright, because she asked me some questions about you," she discloses.

My heart takes the highway speed. "What?..." I frown, faking a casual tone. "Why?"

"She was awfully curious about you. Asked for your name and phone number."

I difficultly swallow, my initial joy replaced with muted despair. "And you gave it to her," I say, more of a statement than an actual question.

She tips her head on one side, and smiles peculiarly. "Yes. Was I supposed not to?"

I hold her gaze because I don't want her to think I'm nervous about it. "No, it's alright. She's such a sweet girl after all," I laugh when all I want to do is cry with Aoi.

—

Morning light announces the start of a new day as I wake up. I run my usual five-miles footing and come back to an empty home. Yesterday night, Aoi tried his best to reassure me about Erine. He told me to ignore her calls —if she ever called— considering that meeting her again was unlikely to happen.

So far, no odd or unknown calls on my private phone. I don't worry too much.

I put on a simple sleeved black dress that falls to my knees. The long sleeves are in a light-creamy color and contrast with the dark fabric of the skirt. A cute off-white Peterpan collar adorns the neckline. It looks innocent and charming at once.

Pairing this with leathery strap sandals and natural makeup, I am soon ready to leave. I grab a sunhat, this time with a black ribbon, along with the brown satchel bag before taking off.

The road is sunny and warm. The several window displays' stores mirror my image in the shining light and I can't help but feel pleased with my reflection. I actually enjoy strolling down the trees-lined alley as I find my way to Apcore's main building. I text Aren about it and he offers to drive me there but I'm soon reaching the place so I politely decline.

Lost in my thoughts, I post myself at the exact same spot I occupied last time. Sheltered from the sunlight, the tree gently sways with the breeze as I sit on the curb and stare at my private cellphone's screen.

 _Erine_ , I plead to myself, _don't call me._

The week I spent with her was one of the sweetest I had even done for my job. Thus, guilt seeped through me everytime I imagined her trying to call Naeru —only to come across silent beeps. She's already dealing with a broken relationship, I don't want to disappoint her as Misaki either.

I sigh, browsing through my contacts before I feel my work phone vibrate in my bag. I'm about to check on it, but a suave and deep voice stirs me out of my action.

"Were you waiting for me?"

My hand automatically shove my private cellphone in my purse, before I look up to emerald eyes gazing at me with malice.

"Aren't you tired?" he asks. My eyebrows knit in confusion at his question.

"Why would I be tired?"

His hand comes up to his tie to loosen it a little. "Because you've been endlessly running in my mind for two days already."

We stare at each others, our face void of emotion. And then, I can't help it and burst in laughter. His pickup lines are truly unsuitable to his good and serious looks.

"That was awful," I concede between two chuckles. A smile lazily tugs at the corner of his lips.

"I know," he admits as if it was done on purpose. "You looked troubled earlier."

Well, Usui Takumi didn't only have a bad side after all. I slowly shake my head, because this silly discussion is not something I expected to share with that man.

"To answer your previous question, yes. I was waiting for you."

He leans a little inside my space. I recline back. "And why such a great honor?" he smirks.

I tear my eyes from his and focus on my hands, as if nervous.

"I thought you might have missed me," I murmur. A shy smile touches my lips when I sweetly dip my head back and look at him. He laughs and bends closer, his hand propping on the tree behind me.

"Perhaps are you right," he grants, his face inches from mine. Eyes on me, they slowly drift down to my lips and hover there. Averting my gaze from his, I notice the breast pocket of his vest gaping and slip my hand inside. He hums curiously and I retrieve a business card out of it.

 ** _Usui Takumi_**

 ** _Walker Inc._** **  
** _Executive Chairman of the Board_  
 _Chief Executive Officer_

Before I can say anything, he suddenly pulls away and straightens his suit.

"But you would be mistaken to assume so."

His tone is icy cold without warning, and I right away feel bereft. I peer up at him, trying to find back the glint of playfulness he presented a second earlier in his eyes. Unfortunately, all I can see is controlled distance.

 _Was it because I took this card from him?_

"Here you are, Usui," says an husky voice.

 _Well, I guess it's all your fault, stranger._

I recognize the tiger-looking man from last time as he watches us with interest. "And with the charming lady, what's more." He grins at me, and steps closer, his hand stretching forward.

I take it with mild curiosity and it's with a firm but unexpectedly gentle grip that he holds mine.

"Igarashi. Igarashi Tora," he introduces himself. "But call me Tora."

My gaze switches between Usui's and Tora's with disbelief. It's faint, but Usui's jaw flexes with what I'd label as irritation, and I bite my grin back.

"My pleasure, Tora," I sweetly acknowledge back. "Ayane Ravens."

"Well, lovely Ayane," Tora bows down and brushes his lips against the hand he holds. "The pleasure is all mine."

I glance at Usui. He's tense. His lips presses into a straight line and he slowly exhales, a heavy breath vehement with impatience.

The more it gets to him, the better. I feel victorious and a grin almost breaks free but I hold it back.

Really, I try.

But with the looks he gives us, it's seriously hard to keep it in.

Covering my suspicious beam with my free hand, I feign embarrassment. My eyebrows shyly knit down as my cheeks turn scarlet. I keep my gaze on Tora's, in such a way that I seem totally smitten with him. I know how much it thins out Usui's temper.

And unmistakably, his arm flings in between, pushing Tora back with appropriate distance.

"Enough," he prompts through clenched teeth. "Come, Tora."

Smiling politely, I look at him with innocent eyes. He frowns and studies me briefly with a hard stare before leaving briskly. Tora is fast, catching up behind him but not before biding me goodbye with a thrilled grin.

Well? My dear prey doesn't do well with sharing, it seems.

And I finally let the repressed smile take over my features as I shake my head with amusement.

—

 ** _Usui Takumi._**

 _Executive Chairman... CEO..._

I trace the printed letters with my eyes.

The number underneath his qualifications is an office number. I can only surmise that he has some kind of secretary. I huff as I stare at my room's ceiling. I'm sprawled on my bed, and my arm —that is holding out the card in front of me— heavily falls back into the mattress.

Closing my eyes, I'm reminded of his sudden cold and icy stare and I shiver. He's unpredictable in his nature, just like a large predator teasing its prey.

He slowly prances around me, keeping his distance with curiosity. When will he leap and take my throat under his claws? I don't know, but it daunts me that I can't foresee his next move.

And right now, he only teases. He playfully edges closer only to fall back and withdraw with his cold demeanor.

Unpredictability is certainly hard to anticipate.

I eye his business card a last time —the only substantial piece of information I got from him—, and turn it around. A refined handwritten note is scrawled on the back of the sleek card, followed by neat numbers. I immediately rise and sit up.

 _Private number_ , it reads.

Without any other thoughts, I dash to my bag resting on the kitchen counter. I tumble and fall, my legs entangled in my pillow. But that doesn't deter me from my irrational rush. Crawling back on my feet, I hastily produce my phone out of my purse. I sit on the floor, leaning against the counter as the screen flashes up. My heart beats fiercely in my chest at my impetuous race.

In a second, the number is typed into the device and my index finger floats over the green call button.

And that's when my self-doubt strikes.

Should I call him?

What if it's a trap and he expects me to?

And what would I even tell him?

"Geez, I'm going crazy for naught," I laugh to myself, putting the phone down on the floor. I run my hands all over my face, and they slide up, raking into my hair. My eyes close and I take a minute to calm down.

When I'm done, I glance at my phone again.

Calling is too dangerous.

I redirect the number into a text message.

 _'Do you often predict woman you meet will pick this exact card?'_ , I type down.

"Too cheeky approach," I dismiss to myself and erase most of the sentence.

 _'Do you often leave your private number in your professional card?'_

"It sounds so silly." My legs stretch in front of me on the cold tiled floor. "And it's too frigid..."

 _'Would you rather date or befriend me?'_

"I think the question is pointless..." I sigh. His heated and dark forest eyes stare back at me when I think about him. I quickly discard the thought and focus back on the phone's screen.

 _'Would you rather kiss me or wait for me to take the initiative?'_

I swallow, my fingertips slightly moist with sheer tension. I'm on edge just from thinking of sending a mere text to a number I assumed was his. I slowly start erasing the message letters by letters.

What if he didn't have any paper and wrote someone else's number on this card? Then, were I to send the message and got the wrong recipient, that would be so... Awkward... wouldn't it?

I shakily exhale, and my fingers move on their own.

 _'Would you rather kiss me or let me kiss you?'_

I press send.

And stupidly regret it.

Afraid that the wait would only succeed in driving me more insane than I already am, I don't stick around my phone furthermore. Standing up, I leave it in the farthest corner of the kitchen, before throwing myself on my bed.

My face sinks into the pillow with a deaf sound and I frantically rise up, punching it away with frustration. I'm on the damn edge, feeling so restless that I ground myself to my bed and swear to myself...

I will not step in the kitchen.

—

"Geez, Misa. Won't you help me get the freaking plates to the table?" Aoi asks with annoyance.

My voice is muffled by my cushion when I respond. "No-waaay."

He makes a face. "Well, dear Lord, will you grace me of your presence to dinner at least, then?"

I reluctantly tear myself from the safety of my bed and crawl to the low table. I forbade myself to step out of it —unless there was fire— to prevent myself from the satanic phone sitting on the kitchen's counter. Eyeing the corner, I imagine the shiny and smooth screen taunt me with an evil leer.

 _Tch._

"What's up with you?" Aoi pulls me out of my musing. His mouth is full of rice but he still speaks to me like it's no trouble. "You've been face first into your pillow for half an hou—..." I cut him before he finishes, pushing his jaw up with the back of my fork so he closes the nasty view of half-eaten food.

A stern look is tossed at me but I shrug it off. "Chew first, then talk, brat." He chomps harshly with a sullen look before swallowing.

"So, you're gonna answer now?" He bids, glowering at me.

I sigh. "Let me enjoy your cooking first?" With my best pleading eyes and tone, I take a try at begging. "Pretty please?"

"No-waaay," he cracks, imitating my earlier childish refusal. "Tell me. Like, now."

Taking a deep breath, I put down my plated cutlery. "I sent a text," I confide sincerely, as if it is my once-in-a-lifetime confession.

"Congratulations!" he peps with mock euphoria. Then his face falls. He fixes me, blasé and full of disbelief. "So what," he presses.

"The phone is hidden in the kitchen."

His eyebrows lift, urging me to keep going.

I prop my chin on my hands. "So, I'm not sure there's a reply yet, and I don't want to see it... Or maybe I do. In fact, I'm pretty much dying to check if..." I pause. "Wait, that totally made no senses, right?"

He nods with a sorry-but-sarcastic expression. "Yeah, you totally need to be checked mentally... Alright, I got it, nevermind. You can resume on eating, my Lord," he says nonchalantly, dropping the matter and I'm thankful. I grin and dig in my food.

After a few minutes of random talk, he motions to stand up. "Want something to drink?"

I keep my focus on the spoonful I'm about to stuff my mouth with. "Yeah, water."

He moves away, and it's quiet for a little while.

Awfully quiet...

Don't tell me he snuck up on me to read my—...

"Oh. My. Freaking. GOD."

My head whips around at Aoi's curse, my eyes in full panic. He's staring at my phone with his jaw slack and wide open with utter awe.

"What the he—..." I start to reprimand but he cuts me without even moving his eyes from the screen.

"No, woman." He cuts, once again. Finally, he glances at me, his gaze repetitively switching between the phone's screen and me. I swear he's going to sprain his neck if he keeps going.

"Listen. And don't dare to move..."

I freeze mid-air before starting to move anyway. "What?"

His gaze is all eager when he replies, a stammer of words drawled slowly and intensely on purpose.

"You. _Absolu-freakingly._ Won't. Believe... What _he_ wrote you back..."

—

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** _

_Hye! I'm glad of your feedbacks, people!  
You guys can't imagine how your reviews put a big, idiot, nonsensical-but-still-making-sense grin on my face whenever I read them! _

_As Aoi would say, You. Guys. Are. Absolu-freakingly. Fantastic._

 _Much LOVE!_


	4. Four

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter four.  
_ —

 _"When you believe you have reached the bottom of it._

 _Don't be mistaken.  
Fight._

 _Because they might seek what's even deeper than that."_

—

* * *

—

" _Would you rather kiss me or let me kiss you?"_

 _"Do not concern yourself over such a trivial issue, for all that matters is: When._ _  
 _But really? I didn't think you'd want my lips on yours that badly."__

Would this be a face-to-face discussion, I don't know how I'd have reacted. But when Aoi shows me the damn message, my eyes flare wide, and I have to read it over and over again to make sure my sight isn't failing me. My face flushes and my boyish roommate watches with delight the warm spectrum of color washing over my face.

Pink. Red. Purple.

I instantly crawl under my covers. "Don't even dare to pull it away," I warn in a muffled voice.

The first thing that pops up to my mind is: _He had answered._

Then, comes in second: _He said we were going to kiss_.

 _His lips on mine?..._

How the hell was I going to face him the next time we'd meet?

A weight saunters right onto me, heavily covering me.

"Misa-chi~," Aoi churrs. "Since when do you send that kind of texts~..."

I sense his sneer and shove the covers up, making him fall. Resurfacing in the thin air, I eye him from the height of my bed, kneeling on it as Aoi's flat on the floor.

With a broad grin full of smugness.

"Seriously, can I hit you?"

I don't know how, but he manages to make his grin widen.

"Ahhh, you really don't treasure your life, do you?" I start to menacingly step out of my bed.

He cowers, though his mirth doesn't. "Ehhh, no way..." His head hits his mattress. "If I'm not there, how will you even answer to... this?" He parades my cellphone in his hand. And he knows he's right, because I stiffen in my motion.

"... What?... Am I supposed to answer?" I ask lamely.

He nods gleefully.

I sigh dejectedly.

—

It's day Five into Usui Takumi's case. And I have yet to get decent shots of us. I eat my lunch with Aoi, and even if today is a week-end day, it's rare that we're both free to do as we please. We don't get any days off, technically speaking. I take the opportunity to ask Aoi for any advices, and possibly, get some men's insight on the situation.

"What did you just say?" I ask dubitatively, a cup of vanilla peanut butter ice-cream in hand.

He takes a scoop out of it. "A date. Public, like the theater. Hell, I don't know. Drink coffee, smile a bit and take his hand or something. Anything."

"Am I supposed to ask him out on a date just like that? Out of the blue?" I shake my head and reject the input. "He's not the kind of man that finds interest in women intently trying to lure him."

"Then, perhaps could you make him ask you rather than the opposite," he suggests. I consider it for a little bit before my lips tug up and curve into a sly grin because my phone flashes up with an upcoming text.

 _'Share a coffee with me. Can I pick you up?'_

"Aoi," I say, standing up as if his words are the reason why I'm abandoning my dessert for the bathroom —though the purpose is to get some privacy. "You're perfect genius." I emphasize on the _'perfect'_ because Aoi likes getting his flattery colorful.

The door closes on him, but not before his canny "I know, I know," reaches me and I laugh at the misunderstanding.

I revert my eyes back on the phone and send Usui a message back.

 _'I'm afraid I am not necessary free.'_

And his reply arrives right on spot.

 _'I'm afraid this wasn't a question. Should I trace your phone number and come pick you up?'_

A ruffled gasp escapes me. What the hell? Can he really do that?!

 _'Tell me where and when. I'll be there.'_

Luckily, he forgets about his threat and texts me back the location and time.

When I'm out and dressed —a fleeting white tunic with marine embroidery adorning the light fabric—, Aoi don't question me and paints my face with what he calls 'natural make-up'. I call Aren in the meantime.

He answers almost immediately.

"Yes, I'm ready," he says on cue. I smile, because this guy is truly reliable and prompt.

"I need a ride," and for good measure, I add, "a good looking ride, to be precise." I have to look the part of a rich heir, after all. I doubt Usui would find me attractive with a simple suburban for a car. He's a man, after all. Appearances matter, don't they?

"Of course, I'll be there in ten."

Ten minutes? I leave the condo right then anyway, to wait for Aren. When I reach the little and unkempt main gate, a sleek and shiny night-black BMW stops in front of me. Its luxure clashes so blatantly with its surrounding that I frown, and move aside because it can't be my ride.

It's such a gorgeous car though, and I longingly let myself be impressed by its allure.

A middle aged man clad in a coal suit steps out. Despite his demure expression, he exudes sophistication, with his silvery hair slicked back in perfection. He eyes me for a bit, and seeing that I'm not giving out any reaction to his looks, he paces around the car and smoothly pulls the passenger door open.

"After you, Miss Ravens." I frown at his polite prompt. I didn't expect Aren to be such an atypical person.

What if he weren't Aren?

I start doubting the man's identity before my eyes falls on the edge of a light blue handkerchief, concealed in his front suit's pocket.

"Aren?"

His head dips ever so imperceptibly. I quickly make my way inside the car, the smell of the fresh and creamy leather permeating the air. He makes sure I'm settled before he shuts the door, and the light suddenly dims inside.

Tinted windows, huh?

I smile. My expectations obviously got blown away by this fancy car.

The door to the driver's side opens and he slides inside. As soon as the door closes, we can finally talk without worrying about any curious ears.

"Such a fine car you've got here," I grin, before relaxing in the supple leather. "But I could've sat next to you, it feels weird here."

"You have to play your part to the fullest, Miss Ravens."

He says that without a glance, solely focused on the road like a great driver should've been. My heart constricts uncomfortably. I feel like a child playing a game I don't understand. Never once had I been catered as Aren is doing right now, and it feels wrong to my beliefs.

I look outside, roads passing in a blur as we speed up. I'm already lying to the world. I don't want to keep this charade in front of my co-workers too.

"Chances are, you won't even be seen by Usui Takumi. Don't you think it is unneccesary to worry so much about me sitting next to you?"

His features soften in the rearview mirror. "You will never know when being overcautious might come handy, Miss."

—

Half an hour of silence later, of wind whipping my cheeks as I stare at the country view, I slowly emerge from my daydreaming. Even though the wind feels great in the mild heat, the midday sun is burning my cheeks and I recoil back into the other corner of the car. We are driving down a dry and sandy roadlane, slithered along a large watercourse shore that shines under the sunlight.

It feels so far from the City.

"Are you leading the right way, Aren?"

"The Riverside was what you told me."

I glance at the sparkly river.

"I meant that as the restaurant or café."

Silence fills the air. He eventually replies with assurance after awhile, as if he had forgotten to answer to my question.

"I know that."

I worriedly look at my phone. And so far, I see no missed calls or messages. A sigh escapes my lips before I can take it back, and I stare at the distance. The lane curves away as if it were the lining of a coast.

"Do you see the inn there?" Aren asks, and I have to focus to actually notice the wood-like chalet lost in the middle of nowhere.

"Do you think it's there?"

"I'm almost certain. But if that's not it, I can always take you back home safely."

The way he speaks is almost fatherly, and I can't help but smile and thank Usui in my mind. Because without his existence, I wouldn't have met someone like Aren.

As we pull closer, the inn only grows bigger and more welcoming. It was nothing like the first impression I had glimpsed a moment ago. What seemed like a forsaken property was now a very well kept and clean establishment, the tone imposingly traditional and warm. Its architecture verging on the european culture made it look utterly authentic, especially with its natural surroundings.

The car slides in the vast out-door parking area and stops feet away from the entrance. I notice a lean —and dressed in black figure— stalling feet away, on a modern and sleek motorcycle matching with his clothes' colors. My curiosity is picked, and I remain still in the car as the stranger cuts the engine and takes his helmet off.

 _Huh?_

 _Usui Takumi on a motorcycle?_

He casually runs a hand through his unkempt blonde hair, taming the wild mess on his head. It doesn't do much, but hell, it's such a good move that it makes my mouth shamelessly gape in awe.

Though my mind seems to be all but confused at this revelation, my eyes can't help but fervently approve with the disheveled hair and casual outfit Usui Takumi has on.

Even in the simplest thick jeans and T-shirt, he was a sight for sore eyes.

Aren pulls my attention back to him.

"Are you ready?"

I tear my gaze from the window and take a deep breath. I'm concealed behind the tinted window, but as secure as I feel, sitting here won't solve anything.

"Yeah."

Aren comes out and pulls my door open —as a proper lady would expect. I step out and stare up at Usui, noticing his fixated gaze upon a spot over my head. As I reach closer, he snaps from whatever he'd been thinking about and focuses back on me. A slow smile spreads on his lips.

"Tell your driver I will take you back."

My eyes widen a bit, but I concede, turning around. One dismissive nod and my partner-driver leaves me there with a curt dip of his head.

When I turn back around, Usui's much closer than he had been. I step aside to righten the minimum appropriate distance between us.

We make such a contrast, I realize, as I stand by his side. His dark fitted shirt —that he fills so well— contours each plane of his svelte body, his rugged jeans adding to his sharpness. And here I am, standing in my fluttering white tunic, looking as fragile and soft as ever. My sandals are flat, and I silently curse myself for neglecting to wear heels. Needing the few inches back in order to look right into his amused eyes without having to tilt my head back, I straighten my posture instead.

It doesn't help much though.

His eyes darkens as they rake over me, seemingly pleased with the major height difference. His caveman trait breaks out as his hand spread out across the small of my back, pushing me towards the Inn. And somehow, the supposed lady I am impersonating likes being man-handed that way.

"Such a sweet sight you are," he leans in and chuckles. His voice is low and deep, and because he is tenfold more intimidating in his stark outfit, I can't help the shrill of awareness that courses me.

"Would you take it as a compliment if I returned you the same thing?" I nonchalantly asked.

He deliciously grins at my wits. If he hadn't let me down that harshly the day before, I would have laughed with playfulness. I quietly glance at his profile from the corner of my eyes, my makeshift smile in place, as he pulls the door and ushers me inside the diner.

An old woman comes immediately to welcome us. She fondly takes Usui in her arms.

"Dear! It's been so long!" She exclaims with a soothing voice before she glances at me. "And you brought a lovely woman here! Please, don't stay on the doorway, come and make yourself at home."

The way she speaks to customers is highly unsuitable in proper business. Akin to a motherly figure, she treats us like her children and is completely endeared by Usui as they speak together with content smiles. I eye him in a new day as I watch the conversation unfold, and though it is mainly her speaking, he seems genuinely worried about her well-being.

When she excuses herself to greet newcomers, I let a little smile linger on my lips.

"What is it?" He asks, my amusement reflected in his emerald eyes. My face clears on the spot.

"Well? It was unexpected, that is it," I say, and bite my lips before a grin can break free. He catches it though, and his gaze hovers there, suddenly smoldering with intent purpose.

 _'I didn't think you'd want my lips on yours that badly.'_

I know we're both thinking of the same thing when I find my eyes skimming his lips. I avert my gaze on cue. Clearing my throat, I lean back.

"Anyway, I thought you wanted to drink coffee," I blurt whatever comes to my mind.

That was lame.

He leans back and gesture to the surrounding. I take in the wooden furniture, the window bays giving on the waterstream and notice several boats floating on the water.

"Do you really think this is the place for a coffee?" He asks in a conversational tone. "And I meant to share much more than a coffee with you."

I start to wonder what he's talking about. But then, he opens his mouth and I spill some leisurely sipped iced tea on the napkin at what he says.

"Plus, who would ever accept drinking coffee in a summer afternoon?" He mocks me with a pointed smirk.

—

"Merely a curiosity, but what is your line of work?"

My heart leaps in my heart at the unexpected question. It takes practice to skirt the dangerous questions that seem innocently harmless.

Those basics questions are the hardest.

I blush slightly, squirming in my seat with sheer innocence. He watches me intently, before smiling with easiness.

"It's alright, nevermind me." He says as if he steps back from the imaginary comfort-zone staircase.

As if it was my turn to hand my lines, I clumsily stammer. "No... Uh.. It's alright... It's just that I don't..." I hesitate, side glancing with shame. "I don't really have to work..."

Yeah, of course. In your wildest dreams, I laugh internally.

"Oh," he says, his eyebrows knitting because of my displayed distress. "I understand, there's no need to be so ashamed by that," he tries to reassure me with his words.

Or not.

"Though it reminds me of my mother. Never worked, and yet she's spending plenty."

His tone is light, but yet, heavy with meaning.

I'm confused by his behavior, and I let it show, turning my weakness into a weapon. Any gentlemen would've said something such as _'you wouldn't want to hurt those delicate hands'_ or _'that would make the firm go bankrupt as your co-workers would be too obsessed with you, had they have you at sight'_. Even if they wanted to reprimand me, they'd do it sweetly, casually hinting that it was _'such a waste to lose such an asset for the business world'_.

Certainly not by saying that I was alike to his mother he clearly despised.

He smiles as if the words he had just said weren't offending. I shakily smile back, uncertainty coating each of my features. One would think that I was on the verge of crying or whatever a pure and delicate soul would feel like at that moment.

But all I want to do is grab my fork and stab it into his arms. Several times, because he is such an insensitive jerk.

I think about the death of a character I appreciated in a romance novel and force some tears to wet the corner of my eyes. But I don't let them spill.

"Excuse me, I need... uh... restrooms."

Just as a damsel in distress, I slowly stand up with my satchel bag and keep my gaze on the floor until I reach the confine of the empty restroom stall.

I consider emptying the whole paper roll to squeeze it into a compact ball of fluffy furor —and eventually tear apart— but I don't. That would be wasteful, and wasting is something I'd rather never do. Instead, I take it on myself, clenching my hands and digging my nails into my palms until it burns.

When I no longer want to rip his golden strands of hair apart, to rip his skin from his bones, simply strike him with my mighty kick or even kiss him sensele—...make him kiss the ground senseless; I finally step out of the restroom.

I spot him paying the waiter. An elegant smile plays on his damned perfect face, smoothing his edges. He's handsome in suits, but in his casual clothes, he exudes a feral charisma that is even more powerful.

It irritates me that he can control others so well, and instead of going back to him as a good companion should, I swiftly decide to slip to the front door.

I bolt outside, and warm weather greets me along with stillness. The sun is still up in the sky, but begins to paint rose and orange streaks into the neverending blue.

Despite that lovely sky, no Aren in sight.

I turn and twist around, waiting for the relief of finding the sleek black car to ease my tensed muscle away. But it never comes. Only then, do I think of calling him. I see that I have one unread message; Aren, telling me to call him whenever I need him back.

Of course, he couldn't leave me here as he had to take the evidences. But only, where was he at that moment, to be able to take pictures at a good angle?

As I pace around, —thinking and fuming all at once—, my phone is held to my ear and I wait for Aren to answer. Instead of hearing his voice, I feel a hand curl around the nape of my neck, and before I can flee away, strong arms encircle my waist and hold me in a tight grasp.

"Who...—"

My body slams into a hard one. My feet dangle in the air, barely inches from touching the ground.

I start to yell, to shriek and struggle away before noticing those forest eyes gazing down at me.

My eyes make a pause, then drift a little lower on his face. His lips curls upward on one side, a devilish combination that flushes me and makes my beating heart flutter.

"Usui!? Let me go!" I loudly say in a panic, momentarily forgetting to keep up the good girl pretense. He growls that he won't until I explain myself.

"Why are you trying to leave without me?" He demands quietly and I struggle all the more at his sovereign tone. He has some nerves to ask me that after what he had just said!

I glare at him. He slowly licks his bottom lip.

 _I don't want to be so close to his damn lips!_

Slamming my fists on his chest, I push onto it for distance. His hold doesn't waver nevertheless. Needing to stay as polite as possible, I avert my eyes from his face and look at the spot of grass beneath his sleek motorcycle wheel.

"Don't touch me..." I mutter with hardship, before I decide that shutting my mouth is the easier way out.

"Look at me."

"..."

"If you don't..."

"..."

"Fine."

 _Fine._ What is?...

His firm lips crash down on mine, forceful with purpose. My phone is forgotten on the ground, bouncing on a spot of grass as Usui picks me up. He hauls me upon his motorcycle and begins to devour me with raw hunger.

Hot and soft lips.

His kisses are so hungry.

"Sto... U.. —Usui..."

I try to pull back, whipping my head aside. His jaw flexes in retaliation, rough fingertips coming to lock my chin back into place.

I whimper, eyeing him warily. My reaction makes him grin with delight. He knows how weak he makes me.

"Should I stop?"

My throat feels so dry I can't utter a single word when he asks me to do so. I'm frozen into place, and torn between nodding or shaking my head.

I can't escape him in my indecision and he seems to like this new dynamic playing out. His chest rumbles underneath my fingertips, and I realize that I've been pulling on his shirt feverishly until now. Bewildered, he makes the most of my shock and his tongue sensually teases at the corner of my mouth, before he bites down on my lower lips. He makes a low and husky sound when he pulls back and I unconsciously follow him, leaning in.

"Why stop when you want this?" he murmurs, his half-lidded stare watching me with unsated desire.

I feel on the edge, the many rational reasons of why to stop right on the tip on my tongue. And yet, they won't come out, because there are no thoughts in my mind. His mouth brushes against mine again, and when he gently flicks his tongue, I can't help but let him do as he pleases.

Who knew he only waited for me to do so?

Sweeping his tongue inside, he fervently strokes mine, and hums deeply.

Then, he takes me senselessly.

He makes my knees go weak. Makes my heart race hard. Sets my senses on fire.

"I finally caught you, my little cat," he rasps against the shell of my ear. I shudder, a breathless exhale leaving my lips. "And you won't escape until I say so."

 _I'm afraid I'm flying too close to the sun, but I can't help it.  
Please, don't make me fall. _

_Please, dear heart of mine. Don't fall._

—

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _The pacing is a little bit (or a lot more actually) faster than my other story ;p_

 _This time, I'm not ending it on a cliffy, or at least, it's not as bad as the last one!  
I could say that I am sorry about the last cliff' but unfortunately, you guys pull the best of me, which is my sadistic streak! Huehuehue :P _

_Just kidding._

 _I love you, people. Sincerely, I'm glad that maid-sama still has that alive-community-fan here, it would be so lonely without you all! *~*_


	5. Five

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter five.  
_ —

 _Your words are like fire to my soul.  
_

 _And they burn so scorching hot,  
that everything turns ice cold._

—

* * *

—

 _Why does he have so much control over me?_

Unfocused, the landscape is only a blur to my eyes as the car speeds through the earthy roadlane. Sparse streaks of gold paints the sky in a rosé hue, but all I can feel is him. My fingertips linger across my lips, drawn to the relentless reminder of his kisses.

"Aren," I distractedly call from the back seats.

His eyes don't divert from the road when he answers. "Yes, ma'am."

I momentarily pause at the heading he addresses me with. Clearing my voice, I eventually ask him, "Can I see the pictures?"

He shuffles in his seat, his eyes fleetingly crossing mine in the rearview mirror.

"I apologize, they're in the car's trunk," he replies. "It wasn't appropriate to leave it in the car of a chauffeur."

"No harms, it's alright," I say softly and smile. How thoughtful of him, once again, I internally chuckle. "And thank you, by the way."

"What for, ma'am?"

"Getting me out of there."

"Not at all," he politely answers back. The rest of the drive is only silence, and my mind plays —once again— what's been on loop, the whole time I sat in the car.

—

I can't sleep a wink that night and consider my situation instead of seeking elusive slumber. What kind of attachment could possibly be unbreakable in barely a week? Failing at reasoning myself, I struggle to push away the persistent memories of him all night long.

The next morning, I shut off my phone, intent on ignoring his calls and messages.

I need the distance.

The sun shines with bright rays in the blue summer sky, and all I do is sit up in my bed, propping my back against the wall. My eyes close and I bathe in the sheer sunlight. I hold my cushion, my knees pulled to my chest and think.

He is only a case, I tell myself.

A mere job.

I have absolutely no reason to fret over him. What's more, he was an asshole, a dominating and conceited one. I couldn't fall for a person who was only look and no mind, could I? It wasn't love; merely attraction. With time, his image would slowly fade away from my mind, leaving a faint taste of him. I blink.

Periwinkle eyes stare down at me. I blink once more, before shooting back aside. Too surprised to utter a single word or sound, my body falls on my side, bouncing on the mattress.

"Aoi! You scared me!" I huff, slowly rising back up. He leans back and doesn't say anything, his gaze studying mine with quiet contempt.

He looks troubled, his brows furrowed as a small dip etches his forehead.

"What is it," I finally ask, getting worried by his silence.

Biting the inside of his cheeks, he finally admits, "You looked like you wanted to cry."

I frown. "I was just thinking."

"Alright," he answers with a small smile, reaching for his camera on the small table. "I need to go, stay safe."

"You too." The door closes after his departure, and I'm once again alone with my thoughts.

—

Already one week has passed since I met Usui Takumi. But more than ever, I feel refreshed and confident.

I start walking faster down the road in my workout clothes, before I feel the burn kick in and my limbs stretch for the regular morning footing.

All I need is a few pictures of him with me. Nothing more, nothing less. Things finally get clearer in my mind. Why should I loose time thinking about my feelings when they weren't even on the table?

Acting, lying, disappearing. It's all I needed to do.

The sidewalk takes me barely few seconds to get ahead, my steps slowing to an halt in front of the streetlight. Energizing music blaring in my ears, the rhythm perfectly matches with my ragged breathing. When the light turns to green, I launch forward, my feet steadily pounding on the hard concrete.

Few passersby curiously gaze at my enthusiasm and I cross them with a little smile. Once I make it to the greenery, the outlet unfolds in front of me. It has to be half a mile away at least, but it would be worth it.

Stretching a little, I don't linger on it and start with brittle steps. My heart rate rises with my speed and my breathing becomes labored. Relentlessly, wind sifts in my ears and whips my cheeks red but I'm too far gone to care. I cut loose all of my worries away, letting fire ignites my lungs until I can take no more.

At the end of the course, I drop on the grass, laying down as I difficultly keep my eyes open. My limbs are heavy and screaming for rest. Drenched in sweat, I can hear my heart thickly pound in my chest and I relish in the feel. Calming down, my frantic breathing retreats for deeper ones, instead of the shallow remaining gasps.

When I finally feel better, I sit up for a while, before taking the direction back home.

I swiftly pace in the road, the growing crowd —up-and-going— delaying my travel. Proceeding with the next corner, I harshly slam into someone. My eyes squeeze shut at the impact and hot beverage spills onto my clothes. Surprisingly, I am not sent flying by the collision but I still jump back, hissing at the hot liquid. When my gaze finally dares looking, I find a young women quietly wincing, down on her bottom with a half empty cup of cocoa in her hand.

"Are you okay?!" I immediately shoot out and help her up.

She pats her dress down and when her head lifts up, I'm frozen by clear emerald orbs.

"Ayuzawa!" She beams at me, her arms encircling my neck. Completely oblivious to the recent damage, she takes a step back. "I'm so glad I've _run_ into you," she says with a smile. I lightly grin at the irony.

 _Literally ran into me, yes._

Then it hits me that I'm not supposed to be that close to her. I immediately raise my hand to my face, trying as naturally as possible to hide my features.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken..." I unconvincingly say.

She stares up at me, before her eyes widen in horror. "You're drenched! God, I'm so sorry!"

Panicking, she produces a handkerchief from her pouch and struggles to dry the wide stain off my hooded sweat. I quickly stop her, because she only managed to spread it further on the fabric.

"It's alright, don't worry." I reassure her as best as I can, my eyes giving her all the guarantee she needs. "I was heading home anyway."

"Is it still far?" she asks, as if she plans on following me.

My defenses are up and I lie, "It's pretty far but don't worry, I'll make it there in no time." I start to turn around but she lugs to me and grabs my forearm. Her grip is unusually firm for her build.

"My house is around the corner, please," she pleads. My eyes widen at her proposition.

"No, no! It's really alright!" I nod fervently, my body giving my own voice more approbation.

Her face twists from guilt, unshed tears whirling in her stunning eyes. My heart softens at the glorious sight of a damsel in distress.

 _Oh no, don't pull that look on me, please..._

"Please.." she says once more, her voice breaking only a hint. She tugs on my sleeve to the opposite direction.

"Fine," the word flows out of my mouth in a sigh before I can stop them. She brightens, a shy smile pulling her lips. Immediately leading me through the crowd, I let her do so... against my will.

—

"Is this... your house?" I ask, bewilderment filling my eyes with wonder.

My mouth gapes shamelessly at the most charming little mansion in front of me. It isn't a colossal manor or anything. More alike to a hidden pearl in the middle of the City, high ornamented fences rise and enclose the house in quiet privacy. Vines and dense foliage shelter it away from any curious glances —even the sharpest one— as we enter through a small gate, hidden in the vegetation.

"Yes, this is where I live," she softly answers, highly amused by my attitude. Her light blonde hair sways in the air, the sight she gives only fitting with the precious one story house in front of us. A pathway opens to us, the small garden welcoming me with blooming colors.

"It's... heaven," I beam as I stop in front of heaps of vibrant flowers.

She waves at me from the doorstep. "Come and get changed first, Ayuzawa, we can get back here afterwards," she giggles at my childish enthusiasm. I nod and cross the threshold, fast behind her.

The inside of the house is mainly lumber-oriented with a breathtaking dome structure. Open to light with sliding glass bays, the timbered ceiling hits unusually high and makes the living room look quite spacious. What I assumed to be another floor level is, in fact, a flight of stairs leading to an indoor mezzanine. Up-to-date and sparsely furnished, the light colored wood appliances finish the whole design in a flawless and modern taste.

"I will get you a change of clothes," she tells me. I thoughtlessly nod at her, my attention caught by the surroundings.

Impressive paintings of England ships and boats hanging on the wall, I couldn't help but feel somewhat familiar with this setting. My eyes land on some miniature models of boats, timeworn and looking ever so expensive in their age. I didn't expect her to be into such a hobby.

"Are you a collector of... ships... or something, Erine?"

A deep and low voice answers back. "She's not. But I am."

My head whips in the direction of the voice and my heart stops. Bent down, a lean and muscular body is concealed behind the fridge's open door. I hear the sound of a bottle of mineral water being cracked open before a firm and manly hand closes the appliance shut.

Sandy blonde hair damp with sweat, he tips the bottle to his mouth and drains the water in large gulps. Tall and glorious in nothing but black sweatpants hanging on delicious hips, I can't tear my gaze from the familiar emerald eyes side-glancing at me with nonchalance.

Panic starts to spring up. I shot around, turning my back on him.

"Uhhh..."

 _How can Usui Takumi be freaking here?!_

I peek down, taking a look at my own clothes. My old sweater and mid-calf sport leggings feel clammy on my skin —and the stain of coffee only makes it worse. Disheveled, my hair is tied in a messy ponytail, my bangs sticking to my moist forehead. This must be so different from the elegant Ayane Ravens he's acquainted with.

I cast a glance in his direction as he opens the fridge door to put back the bottle, seemingly nonplussed by the perfect stranger in his house. His shoulder blades flexes under the motion, the light sheen of perspiration only making his clean-cut frame sharper.

 _Why in hell does he looks so good after working out?_

I'm a total mess, and here he is, looking as smoking hot as a model out of sports magazines.

 _Total mess...?_

An idea crashes over me, and I pull the hood of my sweater around my mouth. He wouldn't recognize me, were I a total mess... right? Before he can speak, I start to cough frantically.

He frowns. "What's the problem?"

I blurt the first things that comes to my mind. "Allergy. The... flowers..." I say with cough punctuating each spaces. My voice is purposefully muffled by my hoodie's fabric, and I lower my tone a pitch down, just in case.

Erine instantly rushes back into the room with a bundle of clothes curled in her arms. She deposits it on the closest chair and reaches for me.

Her soothing palm rubs my back. "Are you alright, Ayuzawa?" I shake my head no and keep my profile low.

"Your strange friend is having an allergy-reaction to the flowers," Usui explains, before casually walking to the sofa facing me. I turn the other way around as he brushes past me.

"Eri...ne..." I cough. "...I think... I can change over there." I point out to the far away room I spot over there. Her worried eyes stay on me as she leads me there and closes the door behind me.

"I'll fetch you a glass of water," she says before leaving.

I quickly start to put on the clothes she gave me. A stylish and pale salmon blouse I slide on. I stop on the white shorts that would —at most— reach my mid-thighs. Isn't it a little too revealing? I blush.

When she knocks lightly on the door, she enters and finds me in a strange outfit, her delicate blouse clashing with my sport leggings. I'm still holding up her shorts to my eye-level.

"Is there a problem?"

I hesitate. "It's just... Do you have normal-length pants or something?"

"Uhh, yes, of course," she begins to close the door in order to go get it, but I stop her before she can.

"And a chiffon scarf," I tell, coughing for good measure. She nods understandingly, worry reflecting in her eyes.

—

Two pairs of emerald eyes stare at me and I anxiously shift, discreetly checking if the scarf is still in place. We're sitting on their dining table, the console akin to light-colored picnic tables. They both face me, and I realize how blind I've been to their similar features.

"So..." I prompt, keeping my tone lower. "You guys are..."

"Cousins," he curtly answers me. "She's on visit."

"I like it very much, in Japan." Her lips smoothly curl, her sweet signature smile showing up. "What about you? Do you have... a _brother_? Or _cousin_?" She leans a little closer to me.

Usui's eyes narrow on me with interest. "Perhaps, a _sister_ , or a close _niece_?" He adds nonchalantly.

I know that both of their questioning have a single purpose.

 _Geez. The person you guys are looking for is right in front of you._

I look at them with a tight smile.

"Um.. I might do, indeed?" I say slowly.

They both lean in at my words, their attentions focused on the next thing I might say. The smile I try to hide cracks out a little bit at their synchronized move.

"But..." I continue with suspense and Erine's bright forest eyes widen along with her growing curiosity.

He stays indifferent nonetheless. "But?"

"But they're not in Japan," I say, looking intently at Erine. He scowls as if I'm no longer of importance whereas she still holds her breath with a little remaining hope.

"Is he a boy? How old is he? What's his name?"

"Naoru," I smile, expecting her to ask me plenty more questions about her prince. However, her face falls in disquiet torment. Genuinely confused by her reaction, my heart stirs uncomfortably in my chest. I was about to take her hand in mine but she brushes me off and stands up.

"I need to get... uhh... the letters... mails," she weakly lies. "Takumi, please, take care of my guest," her fingers skim his forearm before she flees away, her fluttering pale curls flowing behind her. I instantly feel guilty at the mention of Naoru. I thought she'd feel better rather than upset, but apparently, I was wrong on many accounts.

An hostile gaze rests on my face as soon as the door closes behind her.

"Who do you think you are?" Usui demands rather than asks, the emerald of his eyes a shade darker. His tone is smooth and —under all appearances— harmless. But I know better than that.

I nervously laugh to alleviate the brewing tension. "A simple acquaintance of hers... I guess..." I try to smile, but his hard expression makes my attempt crumble to dust.

"Get out of this house," he orders coldly. Offended and frozen all at once, I don't move from my seat. He starts standing up, circling the table to reach me.

I start to plead as he gets closer. "Uhh... I'm afraid this is a misunderstan—..."

"—How cruel are you, to hurt her and still wear a smile on your damn face?" he harshly cuts me as his palm curls around my arm. My forced smile drops on the spot.

"I really didn't think this would hurt her!" I honestly stammer, bitterness bubbling inside of me. "Let me see her! I need to apolo—"

He yanks me up, unimpressed by my defense and drags me to the front door. Pulling it open in a swift motion, he tips his head forward. "Leave," he urges, his eyes resolute.

Damning him in my head, I glare at him. "I won't leave until I get to apologize to her!"

He scoffs. "You don't need to keep the play up, just leave before I hurt you back."

"Try me," I challenge, stepping up to him. "Hurt me, if you dare but I need to see her."

A flash of anger crosses his eyes at my claim. His jaw is set stiff like stone, his teeth clenched tight before I see his hand fly.

 _SMACK!_

My head jerks aside at the impact. I stay rooted to my feet, petrified. My cheek stings, but it doesn't even hurt as much as the vicious blow my heart just suffered. I shakily exhale, before staring up at him.

My vision blurring, I still make out his stunned expression, his cheekbones a faint crimson color. Frozen at his own actions, he takes a tiny step back, seemingly guilt-ridden.

"I..." he rasps gruffly, his earlier fury thrown out of the window. Not finding his words, he draws in a sharp breath and storms back into the house, leaving me on the doorstep.

A sick feeling churns in my stomach. And I let the tears fall down, not daring to move.

—

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _I promise to update within next week, I'm sorry for the late update!  
_ _And booo! Somebody go and slap Usui in the face, he's so rude! D:  
_

 _Thank you for all the feedback and reaction, I love you people! ;v;_


	6. Six

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter six.  
_ —

 _All I want is for your heart to bleed.  
_

 _But tell me,  
why does it hurt inside of me too?_

—

* * *

—

Back home, time slowly ticks the hours away. The night starts to fall and I feel somewhat empty. The whole day has been wasted, my positive state of mind acutely reduced to crumbles. My heart feels heavy, my throat sore from the permanent grumbling I'm doing, muttering curses at everything. The most insignificant thing becomes irking, remotely tiresome to my gaze. Or even wounding.

Aoi coming back home without greeting me made my heart clench with dark thoughts, made me _—_ beyond both our comprehension _—_ spill some tears. Usui made me become sensitive to meager matters, and I hated that. I still do hate it.

 _'Are you free? I could use some of your company.'_

The text I just received from _him_ doesn't make much sense. However, Ayane Ravens is not supposed to be upset. After all, she wasn't the one he had slapped, hours earlier.

My throat constricts painfully, and I ignore my phone, unable to forgive _—_ _to forget—_ for the sake of my task.

"You want me to go and kick his ass?" Aoi asks with evident fierceness. My current temper wasn't lost on him, the moment he got home.

I scowl, and it must look pitiful, seeing the expression he sends me back. "It's alright, I'll do that myself, later."

He plops down onto my bed, before pulling me into his arms. Soothingly, he cradles me and sways me like he would to a distressed child. "One week. Think about it that way, Misa-chi. Seven days and you won't get to see his face ever again, isn't it pure bliss?"

"One week to plan his murder, yeah," I mutter and he snickers at my bitter remark.

"That's what those pictures are for. Make him fall for you until he can't get up, yeah? Who care about revenge? Just sit back and wait, someone else will be doing the job for you."

I peer up at his violet irises, the color sharply glinting in the dark, coating his words with resentment.

"You're pretty harsh, aren't you?" I eventually smile.

He stands up, heading to the bathroom. Before he closes the door, his head pops through, and he sneers, his tongue pulled out. "Only when they try to hurt my bestie."

And I can't help but feel better, and perhaps, take his advice to heart. Indeed, it's only one week left before his downfall, if I happen to secure it.

—

It's in the middle of the night that my phone rings endlessly. Aoi is seemingly out on a job, else, I would've heard his annoyed moans yelling at the ruckus. My palm blindly searches for the device, and when it finally lands on the squared shape, I pull it to my ear.

"... Hello..." I sleepily say, rolling back onto my pillow.

Silence greets me, heavy and dark. Eyelids close, I frown.

"...Who is it?" I venture. Still, no one replies. Deciding that it is a prank call, I begin to hang up, but a slur stops me. The person suddenly laughs uninhibitedly, the timbre husky and familiar, though the laughter isn't.

"Be my guess... lovely..."

My heart kicks in, its pace rising with the seconds.

"Who?... Usui?..." I blink, wide awake.

"You're so..." _—_ a pause _—_ _"_...smart!... Yeah, that is the word!... You're smart..." I hear something tumble, a muted sound as if he hit the ground. "And cunning, sweetheart... Let's not forget that..."

"Usui... You... Are you _drunk_?"

Another foreign laugh. "How could I be?... Wow... the breeze feels great. I feel like swimming... Do you think the water is cold?"

Panic surging, I grip my phone tighter, shuffling out of the bed. "Wait, don't move. Where are you? ...Usui?" I pick up my coat and slip on some random sneakers.

He doesn't answer right away, and it makes me dread what's next.

"The water is... a little cold," he chuckles. "Never thought water would be so cold on summer... mhm..."

"Don't you move, and tell me where you are. Now!" I almost shout, getting out of the apartment in a haste. He only laughs at me, dazzled by my tone.

 _Where's the damn car? Where did I park the goddamn car?_

When I find it, I run and quickly get inside, cold weather rushing inside the vehicle.

"Where the _hell_ are you, Usui?" I ask, dropping any speech honorifics. "Tell me now, or..."

"Or what?... You're gonna hang on me? Leave me? Dump me alone in the river?" His words are brutal, the tone menacing.

But he just let on some hints about his location, and that's mainly what I focus on. River. The riverside. I start the engine and spur the power train. "Don't hang up on me, Usui. What are you doing?"

Faint splashes of water can be heard in the silence. "I thought the cold would make me feel better..." he slurs. "I thought that your voice wouldn't make me feel that way..."

The line cracks and interference's noises fuzz the call. "Usui, _—_ Usui?... Usui!"

Eyes on the dark lit road, I instantly try to call him back but he never answers. Only the daunting dialing tone rings in the eerie stillness.

 _Beep... Beep... Beep..._

Damn... Hating him is not enough of a bother, it seems. He also wants to make me feel guilty for his foolish death, which he's awfully succeeding to, right now.

I call Aren instead, who thankfully responds quickly.

"Aren, I'm going insane."

He chokes a stunned gasp. "Uh, ma'am?"

"Usui is gonna drown himself!"

A silence. "Where at, ma'am?"

"River, that's all he told me. I don't know where to search, damnit! It's so dark outside!"

"Try around the Riverside, I will be there right away, ma'am..." He stops suddenly, undoubtedly wanting to add something. Which he does. "And Miss Ravens, please, calm down. He's probably alright."

Yet, my heart won't follow Aren's wise words.

—

The establishment is like light at the end of a tunnel, bright and welcoming in the dark. Parking the car without much care, I hurry inside. The commotion I am greeted with highly surprises me, the old lady I met completely shaken. She rushes up to me and embraces me in her massive hold.

"Have you seen him?" She asks when she pulls away, rattling my shoulders. I quickly gesture no and her face falls with despair.

One look around, and all I see is panic. "I'm looking for him actually, he spoke about the river and..."

"Oh Dear Lord!" She miserably howls before flailing to the counter, grabbing a large and antic lantern. Aren arrives on the spot, in his hand an already prepped flashlight. His hair is disheveled, and clothes-wise, he's not better than I am, with a thick jacket pulled over his pajamas.

"Miss, I will start the research, I will be taking the right shore," he signals before heading out. I follow him.

"Fine, the left side is for me, then," I say, seizing the lantern from the lady's frozen hands standing behind me. I give her a quick reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and dash to the cold stream.

Alike to another footing but in a worse version, I jog all along the shore, screaming his name away. My lungs are burning, both from the unceasing cold air filling them in and out, and my harsh yells.

After half an hour, I halt, cold sweat dripping down my forehead. I brace myself, my hands on my knees and start to breath deeply.

Almost tripping with exhaustion, I feel some water drip down on my face. Assuming it is only perpiration, I start to run again until an incoming summer rain showers down on the land. The scene seems taken from a drastic tragedy movie, the deluge coming down growing in intensity. My shouts get swallowed by the muting torrent, and what's left of my vision is only a fuzzy haze. I try to keep going, but the drain is like a hefty weight on my shoulders, pressing my steps down into the mud, sinking my legs deep into the brown soil.

My phone lights up and I bend over, trying to protect the screen from the relentless attack of the droplets. The only words I hear are the three first one, and the rest hardly matters anymore.

 _"We found him."_

—

They wordlessly lead me down a discreet staircase at the back of the chalet, the path giving way to a sunken cellar. The staircase is tortuous, the old lumber creaking under my weight. When I reach the atelier, I'm dazzled by the light. A bright and warm bulb enlighten the wooden space, a massive and incomplete boat deck filling the room.

Tapping sound of a screw being hammered into white oak slabs echoes in the corner. His drenched frame is bent over the lower part of the timbered structure, his knees flat on the solid oak floor. I step ahead, and find him with his hair still damp, his shirt clinging to his body. His jeans remain in a state that is even shabbier than mines.

"You are aware of how insane you made us go, right?" I slowly say, prompting his attention.

He doesn't turn around, neither does he answer. And it's my cue to leave him be. Honestly, I don't even want to talk to him after the unrealistic night that went on. And furthermore, seeing him made me feel empty, save for the shame filling my lungs.

"Well, I'm glad that you're fine," I eventually voice, stepping up the stairs. I give him one last glance when he's about to disappear from my sight. He's quietly staring back, his eyes pinning me on the spot.

"I don't get you," he murmurs, turning his back on me. "I can't figure you out."

"What is there about me?" I ask confusedly.

He glances over his shoulder. "Come here," he says. In his eyes waver a quiet plea. I comply, taking the hand he holds out for me. Slowly, he kisses my fingertips, leaves soft touches with delicacy. His eyes close as his lips graze my knuckles ever so tenderly.

I don't understand the sudden shift, I don't get what he wants from me; but I do know what I need from him. So I stand there, unmoving and too afraid to break the fleeting fragility of the moment.

"I'm sorry..." His voice is no louder than a whisper. When his gaze meets mine, they convey honesty, but it doesn't make me feel better at all.

The uncertainty of the reason behind his apology is taking me by surprise. I choke on the words I want to ask, and they come out all jumbled, my voice hoarse.

"What for?"

He shifts. "For tonight. Is there something else I should apologize for?"

My heart shatters. "No, there is not," I faintly smile, the curl lovely and gracious upturning my lips. For the sake of my job, I don't mind if he tears my heart apart. _As long as he's erased from my life in seven days._

The deadline is my lifeline. A high-strung rope that is threatening to rip. Still, I hold onto it, with a forced smile, and I pray that it holds on the time that's left.

I almost hear the clock ticking in my ears. It pounds against the back of my head, relentlessly.

Usui pulls me down into his lap, nestling me in his embrace. I don't fight him. Why should I fight? Nothing is my choice anymore, and all I have left is to play along. He gazes down at me for a while, his palms running along my arms, heating my skin with the contact.

"You're so cold," he murmurs in my ear, his hold warming my body but not my heart.

"Who's fault is that?" I chuckle, lightly tapping the tip of his nose with my fingertips.

He smiles when we kiss. "Solely mine."

My mask is up, covering my face. _Suffocatingly so._

My expression is perfect, pleasant, my features soft, exactly what my alter-ego is supposed to wear. He doesn't see the lost and average girl he had bashed earlier in the day. Sandy blonde hair skimming my sensitive skin, his lips brush against my forehead. He sees his lover in my ambers. He sees her in my disheveled state; a state that his frenzy triggered.

 _Only for him._ Her world revolves around his, and that's how he captures my tortured heart. With the warmth he reserves for somebody else. For who he believes I am.

All the little gestures, my easy kisses, my hands stroking his mussed hair... I like to think that all I am doing is merely for practice. Fake emotions I am intending on drowning him with. But it isn't. _'It doesn't affect me at all'._ I repeat this mantra in my head over and over again, but to no avail does it prevail.

Because having this attractive man within arm's reach is rapture. I force myself to think it's not much. But I love the way he showers me with kindness and devotion. He showers _her_ with kindness and devotion. I can't help it, because in the way, I already fell hard enough to realize it.

Deep down, I know... I know how mistaken I am. _He doesn't love you, Misaki._ The one he sees is that woman I am impersonating. The elegant, fine woman I will never be.

I'm only indulging in my lies.

And it hurts.

 _One week._

"You feel so far away, sweetheart," he hums in my hair. _I've never been close to you, after all._

My gaze follows my fingertips, thoughtlessly brushing his jawline. "I'm sorry... But you really made me worried," I lie flawlessly. _Or is it not simply a lie?_

He huskily chuckles. "I'm still a little light-headed, but I do remember you cursing over me, yes..." Bending down, he drops a kiss on my forehead. "Spend the night with me, tonight?"

I stiffen in his arms and he laughs. His chest rumbles underneath my body as his voice rolls through, a peculiar mixture of sandpaper and melted honey.

"Nothing indecent, I just want you in my arms," he alleges sweetly.

"My car is around the corner, Usui..."

He slowly shakes his head, scooping me up in his arms as he stands up.

His gaze pins me down, yet in his arms. "I insist," he whispers.

 _Only seven days._

"Well, alright..." I sigh heavily, merely for a pretense of refusal. Effortlessly walking us upstairs, I get a last glimpse of the uncompleted oak stem that he leaves behind him.

—

When the dawning light soars and stirs me from my slumber, I find myself alone in the imposing bed. The room is all lightwood and musk, white curtains draping the windows and flowing with the small breeze. From where I lay, I see the river stretch almost endlessly in front, the sky painted in gold and rosé colors. Shifting, my body curls around the bed sheets, burying itself under the multiples layers.

I feel myself unmasked by all the rush of emotion I went through, last night. No amount of covers, comforter or clothes can hide the raw and exposed heart that beats in my chest.

A palm curls around the nape of my neck and pulls me up to warm lips. My eyes still closed, his cologne wafts to my senses and I can't help but inhale. When I sleepily blink, I find him bent over my form, already dressed in a sharp and tailored suit.

"Good morning," he murmurs, leaning back.

I'd never have imagined him being this tactile until last night. Smiling back at him, my arms wrap around his waist, my head resting on his stomach. Something shifted in the relationship we were building. We're less playful, less casual and much more honest. It's as if we both know that it won't last, and are making the most of it.

 _I'm supposed to hate him._

But how can I keep doing so, if I am stuck with his gentle side? If he's showering me with his love?  
That urge to keep the memories locked in a bottle... I don't need it, but I would cherish it even if it would potentially destroy me.

Is it alright to simply indulge and never take a look back?

Maybe someday, I'd stand a chance to forget these green emeralds, but until then...

 _I'm supposed to love him._

—

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _This chapter is kinda emotionally heavy... Forcing yourself to be someone you're not, when all you're wishing is to be that person. A strange contradiction, and yet, we see it around us every single day._

 _Pretend, talk, smile. Repeat._

 _Anyway! Thank you for reading, and following this story! *bows*_

 _Much LOVE !_


	7. Seven

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter seven.  
_ —

 _Sometimes, I wonder about you.  
_

 _Are you mine, yet?_

 _Do you think of me as much as  
I am thinking of you?_

—

* * *

—

I feel his fingers thread my hair before he lifts one up. Peering up, I notice he is checking his wristwatch.

"Uh, I will get ready to leave," I stutter nervously.

Backing off, I feel like I'm intruding on his precious time. His hand firmly keeps me there nonetheless, my head resting against his stomach.

"It's alright." His voice is soft, as if he doesn't want this to end. Somehow, I wouldn't mind staying like this, but the flow of time will always tick away, no matter how we try to stall its progress.

"Would you mind waiting for me?" He shifts slightly, his hands resuming the soothing motion. "I will be back at noon."

I lean back to look at his face, my hands gripping at his waist for leverage.

"Aren't you working on the afternoon?"

"I will cancel those."

A flash of displeasure runs across my face. "Please, don't. I can always see you later."

He frowns as he gazes down at me, a tight expression on his face. Apparently, he has never taken 'no' as an answer and it riles him up. Kneeling, his eyes level with mine and he cups my cheeks in his palms. Calloused fingertips brush my skin and I savor the feel.

"I want to spend my whole days with you, not only an afternoon. I'm already compromising this morning, do you realize that?"

"Why the sudden interest?" I ask, pulling one of his hands in mine. I trace his fingertips, wondering how such an elegant man —and above all, CEO— could have hands of a labor worker. His eyes follow mine.

"It's the ship restoration. Wood crafting does that," he answers my thought, his voice low and no louder than a whisper. "An heritage that no one ever cared to rebuild, until it came in my possession."

The way he speak hints at an assertive pride towards his legacy. Clearly, the uncompleted deck I'd glimpsed holds a special place in his heart, a deeper meaning than what he lets on. I don't press the matter.

"You didn't answer to my question," I point out, a small smile curling my lips. He silently stares at me, perhaps trying to find an evasive answer to that question every woman comes to ask, amidst a relationship.

My anxious expression must've been funny to see, because he softly chuckles.

"Simply because I can't stop thinking about you. It's becoming unhealthy, so don't push it unless you want me to die," he jokes playfully at his words, but the reality of yesterday looms heavily above us.

Good-naturedly, I smile at his statement, though I know my intentions aren't so far off. It feels bitter inside to abuse someone as distinguished and actually succeed in that. I stare at my own fingers, embarrassed by the overwhelming shame, though he'd think it's only his cheesy words that is working my blush up.

"Stay the day, maybe even the night. And tomorrow, the day after, and even further." He says. I suspect it is again a joke, but when our eyes met, all there is, is sincerity.

"I have things to attend too. You know?" I mumble, flustered.

He stands up and leans in, his palm curling around the nape of my neck. Pulling me into a brief kiss, he murmurs, "I know. But won't you consider it?"

In his emerald eyes glint a plea, but he still smile sadly as if he could foretell my answer. What sane person would actually agree to spending days and days with a man she'd just met, after all? Not many.

"I will tell you, later in the day?" I venture, my head tilting on one side. "Hurry and go, or you will be late for those meetings of yours." I nod at the door to hasten his decision. Unexpectedly, he complies and steps ahead. And when he crosses the door's threshold, he eventually stops and glances back at me, one of his hand held mid-air as if he needs a last clarification.

"Later in the day?" he acknowledges, making sure that I will keep my word.

I smile at his adorable insecurity. "Yes."

He nods several tiny times, putting my answer inside of his head. One last smile and he disappears from my sight. I wearily plop down onto the bed, still holding my breath in case he would come back.

I had already made my mind up about staying.

Standing up, I make it to the window that showcases the river in the dawn of the day. Leaning in, I survey the park area, and seconds later, he emerges. His lean figure briskly walks to his sleek motorcycle. He puts the helmet on and drives away in his fine charcoal suit, embodying a combination of shrewd business and sharp wildness.

I linger a few seconds there, before I come back to Earth. I scurry to the chair where my dirty clothes are, now washed —freshly dry cleaned— and find my phone sitting on the table nearby. I'm relieved to find that it still has decent battery.

Unlocking the pin code and the password one, a set of five texts flashes in rapid successions, along with a few missed calls. Aoi.

 _'Hey. Just finished and got back home. Where are you?'  
'Are you on a job? If so, I won't bother! ;)'  
'I'm sort of worried now. Well, call me when you're done, I could come pick you up?'  
'It's 4am, already... Are you alright?'  
'Call me when you can.'_

I feel guilt gnawing at me and hurriedly motion to call his cell phone, though he probably is sleeping. On a second thought, I send him a text. I don't want to disturb his sleep, especially if he was still up at four in the morning, restlessly waiting for my whereabouts.

 _'I'm fine. Was on job and spent the night at an inn.'_

I press send, feeling a weight fly off my shoulders. Before I can even sigh, my phone vibrates in my hand.

"Hey, Aoi," I answer.

 _"WHAT THE HELL, MISA-CHI!"_ Thankfully, my head moves away from the speaker on its own, mindful of the loud yell.

"Why, good morning, Aoi," I chuckle.

"You," his voice seethes with anger.

"Me?" I grin dumbly. He growls as if he can see the stupid look on my face and I giggle at the thought.

"You made me so WORRIED! That never happened so far!... Where are you? Are you alright? Do you have some cash?... Do you need some? Or maybe do—..."

"Aoi."

"Huh?"

"I'm fine."

Silence.

"Ah, okay."

My lips can't help but twist up with amusement.

"Also, Aoi... uh... I might not come back home for a while."

Silence.

"Uh... okay."

Silence.

"Wait... what? What did you say?" he inquires after some roundabout musing.

"And I need some clean and good looking clothes," I add innocently.

I hear him shuffle at the other end. "Wait, wait. Why? What do you mean? Did something happen? Don't tell me you're in the hospital too... God, no. Where are you? I'm coming right now to get y—..."

"Aoi!"

"Yeah?"

"I'm fine. Really. And hospital? Too?"

"I meant Suzu. Umh... Actually... The bills just came this morning."

It's not as if I could have postponed that. "You know where my checkbook is... Fake my signature and send it as soon as possible, please?"

He cleared his voice, tension filling his tone. "Umh... Actually, they increased the amount... Do you think you will have...enough? I can help, no problem, you know that, right?"

"I will have enough, I think—..."

Uncertainty coated his words. "Are you sure? I mean, I really don't mind helpi—..."

"I'm sure. Thanks though, Aoi, I appreciate but just send it when you can, alright?"

"Yeah... Alright..." I know he's not alright. Who would be, when one of your closest friend is in a pinch and refuses your help?

"I really appreciate it, okay? Don't start thinking too much," I prompt with a firm voice. "Really, just you being here is a great support. And if I'm really, really, really, and I insist, _really_ in need, I will take up your offer."

I feel him smile and it shows in his voice. "Yup. No hard feelings," he laughs a little. "Come fetch your clothes, and hurry up?"

"Be there in a bit. See you."

"Yup. See ya."

A while after that, a light knock resound on the door and an employee hands me some clothes. Surprised, I take them without a word and dress up in the feminine and branded attire. I clear up as nicely as I can, finding everything I need —already disposed in the bathroom. Walking downstairs, I spot Erine and the old woman —patron of the inn— deep into a conversation as they lively laugh together.

On cue, Erine glances kindheartedly at me and the old lady turns around with a warm smile.

"Dear! Have you slept well?" She inquires as she comes up to me and takes me into her arms. I'm sort of uncomfortable, but I return the gesture nonetheless.

"Yes, it was perfect," I reply politely. Erine steps up to us, taking her place aside the lady.

Her eyes drink my features, but she remains flawlessly serene.

"Have I seen you somewhere?" she asks pleasantly, for conversational purpose. _You look awfully familiar,_ a spark in her eyes surrenders, but she doesn't voice her apparent thought.

I straighten my posture and change my expression to a mildly self-assured one.

"You might be mistaken," I smile professionally. "Ayane Ravens," I stretch my hand to her. She shakes it softly.

"Pleased to meet you," she grins. "Martha said a lot of great things about you," she glances at the aforementioned lady.

"Takumi is very fond of her," Martha nods like a young woman gossiping.

 _Geez, couldn't they talk about this when I wasn't right in front of them?_

Erine quirks her eyebrows up my way, wonder written all over her face. "I want to know! Let's go out and maybe...Come shopping with me?"

She grabs my hand and begins to pull me towards the doorway. I resist a bit and I'm so grateful when I hear Martha speak up, with a tinge of warning in her full voice.

"Where do you think you are going, young ladies? A healthy day starts with an early meal!"

"Ever so the motherly-figure," I mirthfully remark. Erine nods and pouts, finally settling on joining me for breakfast.

—

It's already late morning when we set on going out of the inn. We've both talked about trivial things, an yet, it's with those kind of discussion that I realize how well-bred Erine actually is for her young age. She talks with delicacy and yet accuracy, finding the most entertaining and still relevant matters in over-used subject. The bond we form is plainly obvious now, and I really enjoy her company, even though I shouldn't.

I spot my car near the inn's entrance but I don't make any move. I chance a glance at Erine's slender figure and I realize how my beat up commoner car clearly is inappropriate for the circumstances.

"How did you get here?" I ask, fishing my phone out of my trouser's pocket and search for Aren's number.

She shuffles closer. "I took a cab to here, but he left already," she says.

"I will call my driver, then." Discreetly, I send Aren a text asking for a _nice looking_ ride since I will be accompanied before I call him. He answers to my call, saying he got my text just fine and will be here in about twenty.

"Twenty minutes," I inform her, the curious gaze she gives me putting me on edge.

"No worries," she dismisses. "Anyway! How did you and Takumi meet?"

I'm sort of awestruck by the sudden change in conversation. "Uh, it was officially at an art exhibition."

She hums in understanding. "Officially?"

It's hard to explain that calculated encounter outside of his firm's building. "Let's say I just met him there," I wink. My phone lights up and I glance at the message from Aoi.

 _'You're still not there so I took the liberty of bringing your clothes.'_

I glance up in time, and his little —but glossy— car for two slides up to us. Aoi, smartly dressed in a plaid button up shirt and black jeans emerges, a stylish beret on his head. Amethyst eyes blink at me with merriment.

"Woman!" He calls me, reaching for the car's trunk. A heavy suitcase flops on the ground, and he produces several garment bags that he carefully lifts in his arms. I dumbly stand there, staring at him.

"Come on, help me?" he chastises and I finally get out of my stupor.

I didn't even give him my location!

"How?" I falter. He grins his lopsided smile.

"It's called GPS. Your phone was probably shut off yesterday, so I couldn't reach you."

"Well? Remind me to put the tracking location setting off, then," I sigh. That's when I notice Erine's timid gaze zooming onto Aoi. She stays behind, seemingly not wanting to interrupt us.

 _Mhm?_

"I totally forgot!" I overdo the gesture, looking back and forth from Erine to Aoi. Stepping back to let their gazes meet, Aoi comes closer and stretches his hand.

The peculiar contrast is blatant when Erine takes his hand, compared to when she shook mine. No more is the calm and serene pleasure she had experienced.

A crimson blush creeps up her high cheeks, and maybe am I too observant, because I faintly make out a slight trembling from her part when she introduces herself.

"Erine, Erine Walker," she gives a shy smile.

Aoi brightly grins in return, seemingly unfazed. "Aoi Hyodo. Pleased to meet you."

"The...The pleasure is all mine," she gasps. I bite back the laugh threatening to spill as Aoi casts me a watchful glance.

"Let me take those upstairs," I volunteer, as they are all my clothes after all. "You two stay here, call me when the ride arrives, alright?"

I don't let them the time to decline and immediately sweep the contents in Aoi's arm and pull the suitcase behind me. Erine's all skittish and I know all she wants is to crawl inside but I don't let her.

"Aoi, take care of her," I warn him and he nods delightfully.

"Yes, ma'am."

Maybe playing matchmaker could suit me more than my current job, I muse as I haul my things upstairs. An employee helps me on the way, and I'm somewhat grateful that she doesn't question me about all the paraphernalia of luggage. Determined to tidy all my things up, I start to open the drawers and closets, only to find out that they're already full of Usui's clothing. Afraid to be overstepping my rights, I finally leave my clothes in a corner of the room and return downstairs.

When I get to my two future lovebirds —or at least, one sided lovebird with Erine lovingly gazing at Aoi as he speaks— I spot Aren's car coming in the distance.

"Alright, are we ready to go?" I intently ask her. My tone hints at something and she doesn't miss it. She looks at me with doe eyes, as if caught of wrongdoings.

"Of course, Ayane..." She voices slowly, unsure.

Aoi steps in. "Where to?"

"Shopping," I grin. Aoi loves shopping unlike me, but he won't tell that in front of a stranger. _Hell no._

He makes a grimace, though I know all he wants is to tag along. "Eww, I'm out then."

Erine's face looks disappointed at the news, but she clears it up in a blink. I turn my head in the opposite direction, conspicuously grinning to myself.

 _Well?_ If she plans on teasing me about Usui, I sure do know how to counter attack now.

The sleek and fancy night car slides in front of us, and Aren steps out like a perfect chauffeur to open the passenger door. Erine gives a little departing nod to Aoi before going inside. I do the same, but I give him a derisive little smirk, and he silently scowls at me.

 _You, woman, are going to get it back!_ His eyes throw daggers my way.

I dismissively shrug. _Yeah? I'll be waiting._ And I step inside the car, Aoi drifting from my sight as we drive away.

"Where to?" Aren asks wisely.

I glance at Erine, seemingly stuck in her thoughts. "Erine? Where are we heading to?"

"Uh?" She blinks. "Oh... Uh... We could go to the shopping district around Apcore's building."

"Yes, ma'am," Aren answers curtly.

And the ride runs smoothly. Whenever Erine tries to speak about Usui , I heavily tease her about Aoi. She blushes every time I do, making me reminisce of when she used to go out with my Naoru persona.

Perhaps is she finally moving on? I feel joy filling my heart at the sheer idea.

—

The whole shopping goes on, and while Erine tries to make me buy the elegant and fancy clothes out there, I actually succeed in steering her from the idea by choosing clothes for her. Whenever I watch a price tag, I almost want to puck somewhere in the corner, thinking about the hospital bills.

Especially in my dire situation, where I feel like Aoi put a dead flag onto my bank account. I probably will have to apply for multiple jobs or cases after this current one. One full set of clothes could probably be a quarter of my bank account, and seeing how Erine is a profuse spender, I worry for Usui —or whoever is tending to her need.

I still buy a white laced dress, just so she doesn't become suspicious of my money withhold. It's vintage and she only approves with glee.

"It's so delicate! And the skirt flairs just the right amount. Really perfect!" She beams with enthusiasm.

I give my American Express to the store's clerk, hoping that I will make it for next month's financial restraint. My bank account probably is in the red right now, and I regret not asking Aoi the exact amount for the hospital.

Suzuna is mainly my reason for resorting to such a job. I needed money. And a large sum at that, in a short time span. Her therapeutic medication and health backing in the main city's hospital was expensively insane for the section Suzuna needed.

Mental ward.

Every single time I went to see her, my heart ached with hurt. She was stuck in her ten years old mind, unable to get out, even though she was already legal. Witnessing the death of my mother, something must've happened right then, but she never told me anything about it, and her time clock only went reverse, blocking out the painful memories.

Musing over my bank account, and planning to pay a visit to my ill little sister later in the month, Erine pulls me out of my thoughts when she loudly wails with delight.

"Takumi!" She shouts and jumps into his arms like a five year old kid. Many people look at them as they cross our group.

"Erine, it's not appropriate," Usui voices, glancing at the man he walked along with. If I do remember well, his name is Tora... Ira... shiga... something. I don't think neither of them have noticed me, because they haven't even looked at me. It's the tiger guy that breaks the veil first.

"Ayane Ravens," he grins, stepping into my comfort zone and bending down, swiftly brushing his cheeks against mines. I almost jump back in discomfort but it would be rude so I play along and let him do his European greetings...?

"Tora..." I say, calling him by his name rather than his surname —only because I don't remember it. "I didn't know you were from Europe?..."

He huskily chuckles at my quizzical tone and playfully pokes Usui with his elbows. A thin and tensed smile greets the blonde's lips, his jaw clenched tight.

"I am not, I only abused of it because I wanted to kiss you," he admits heartily, unashamedly thrilled, his lips twisting up in a feral way.

I bite my lower lip, unable to graciously answer. Looking up to Usui for some clue, I find his eyes narrowed on me, the emerald of his eyes dark and full of spite. He takes a long exhale, before giving me a closed-lip smile that promises nothing good. My heart instantly drops.

He reverts his attention on Erine, and his features soften on the spot.

"How did you meet your friend?" he firmly asks her, a faint and hidden edge priming his words.

She slowly smiles with fake innocence. "Takumi, don't play dumb! Martha told me everything about her and you!" She adorably grins, utterly glad to shred this private part of her cousin to light.

Tora begins to whistle. "Takumi and Miss Ravens? Really?" He smirks dangerously, his palm curling around my arm. "I'm quite interested, now." His palm slides up to my hair, and he slowly glide his fingertips in my dark strands.

"Uh... I don't think it is... appropria—..." I stammer, trying to _politely_ make him stop but Usui's hand wraps around my wrists and pulls me to him, effectively tearing me away from Tora.

"Excuse me, I need a minute with her," he claims, quickly dragging me along with him and leaving his cousin and business partner behind him.

He takes long strides, and all I can do —in order not to trip down— is to rush behind him and keep his pace. We are walking in the reverse direction of the flow of people, making them gawk at us with curious gazes as he pushes them off his way.

"Usui, slow down..." I gasp, but he doesn't and leads us further into the crowd.

Pulling me into a subsidiary alley that gives onto the main road, he pushes me against the brick wall and traps me there. Without any warning, his hands slam on either side of my head. When our eyes lock, I see possessiveness lurking in the green of his irises. Like an intense beast that is threatening to seize his prized prey.

"We need to speak."

He tilts his head down, his eyes ensnaring mines with a sensual promise. His sandy hair brushes against my forehead before his voice seeps, thick with pride and desire. I press into the wall, my heart thumping against my chest with a piqued speed.

"First of all, you should know..." He pauses, and his lips are a breath away from mine. He gives me a brief, and hard kiss full of underlying claim, before resuming.

"I don't share, _sweetheart_."

—

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _I will reply tomorrow morning to the reviews in a review! Because you guys ask some question I still haven't answered, so yup._  
 _(Too tired to do so, right now, it's 2am here... zzz)_

 _Do you like it by the way? :3 I find Erine kinda cute, crushing on Aoi xDD! Sorry for HonokaxAoi shippers, I don't really like them together, to be honest :l ..._


	8. Eight

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter eight.  
_ —

 _It feels like I don't know where to draw the line.  
Whenever you walk past it...  
_

 _I let you do so.  
Let you get so close.  
_

—

* * *

—

"You don't share," I slowly repeat, peering up in his dark eyes.

My voice is slightly bitter, and he frowns at my tone. I immediately try to righten my stance into a less aggressive one. A more passive one.

"I mean... I wasn't implying that I was interested in Tora or—... "

He leans in, and his eyes intently watch my expression as he drifts nearer. I press myself harder against the wall, futilely hoping to disappear into the red clayed brick.

"You didn't mean to call him by his first name, did you? You don't even call _me_ by my first name."

The rough whisper scrapes my skin, making me shiver at the dangerous glint dancing in his emeralds. Sometimes, it feels like he despises me more than anything. As if he hates the sole idea of loving me, but can't help but indulge.

"You're jealous." I murmur, silently deriding him in my head. My gaze shifts to my feet, afraid that my motives could surface, were he to look into my eyes. When he doesn't answer, I glance up and find him with his eyes closed.

"Usui?"

Shaking his head, he smiles with regrets.

"That's not how I meant to say it." His eyes open, locking with mines. "But if you want the truth..."

Somehow, I don't want it. Dreading his heartfelt words and their impact on my frail heart, he still answers nonetheless.

"Yes, I am jealous," his gaze is set afire with strong purpose. "I don't know how you two met, and certainly it was no business of mine. But now, however..."

The back of his hand traces my arm up, before his fingertips brush my jaw, my cheek, my lips. Lazily.

"Wouldn't you agree to be mine?"

The intimacy is tempting, but more than anything, it's dangerous. Overwhelmingly destructive.

 _Only six days_. How could I belong to him in merely six days when all I've shown him was a make-believe performance? The fabricated lie —agreeing like a behaved wife should— was obstructing my throat, making it hard to breath.

Alike to a shadow skirting around the light's brightness, I try to evade with smooth accuracy the perilous question. Pushing forward on my toes, my reply is postponed with a kiss on his cheek.

"Is that enough for an answer?" I smile as convincingly as I can, my heart wavering on a thin and unbalanced edge. He tips my head up, my lips meeting his briefly.

"Yes, it is," he rasps with a slow grin. "It is, for now."

—

And we stroll down the main road, hands in hands as the day falls. Erine and Tora both are missing, allegedly back to their usual occupation, Usui had said.

All we say are meaningless things that keep the conversation flowing, but nothing reveals anything about ourselves. Our _private_ life.

He's much more pleasant than ever, careful with the words he uses as much as I am with mine. We talk and shop in those expensive stores as if we had planned this date for weeks. He flawlessly makes them deliver the items to his house with a flick of his debit card.

As the days goes on, all I notice is that he is as secretive as I am. Putting that aside, he also either is awfully rich, or remarkably generous because he offers to buy me so many items that I can only find myself declining his endeavors. Despite it all, he notices everything.

"Do you like this necklace?" He points a slender finger at an elegant piece of jewelry. Shaped sapphires glow back at me, the cerulean shade shifting to a pale blue sky. I had never stepped into such shops before, but I play my part of the rich lady with casual indifference.

"It's too..." I murmur as I passively eye the exorbitant price tag. My jaw threatens to fall at the incredible amount, "—simple," I pleasantly finish. Nevermind the intricate design —a cascade of precious stones. It was... _simply_ overpriced. Ludicrous. Excessive.

He slowly nods and walks further into the shop as I idle back. My eyes slide to the entryway, eager to run away from those unreasonable zeros following whatever numbers on the quoted prices. When my gaze drifts back, it pauses on a modest silvery wristwatch, the cut classic and yet unique. The locket is light and thin, ever so feminine.

"Do you need some help, mademoiselle?" The clerk offers with a business smile. I shake it off with a small smile and hastily get back to Usui.

Who watched me the whole time.

He grins very, very smugly.

I silently scowl.

"What is it?" I bit out between gritted teeth.

He doesn't reply, but edges closer to the clerk and whispers into her ear, his eyes still fixated on my face. Flashing his damn credit card, she nods with a pale blush on her cheeks and disappears in the back of the shop. My gaze narrows to a glare.

"What did you do?" I venture with suspicion. I already do know though, but I can't stop my mouth running. He steps up to me, his thumb brushing his own lower lip. He bites it down, before smiling with feigned secrecy. And a tingle suffuse in my heart —as selfish as it is.

"Secret," he says mockingly.

No matter what I say, the outcome won't change. I cross my arms over my chest, trying to tamper my displeased mood. His eyes widen on the spot.

"Did you just... _growl_ at me?" He asks, dumbfoundedly. I don't reply and turn my back to him instead.

His arms wrap around my shoulders and he chuckles.

"You are too adorable..." He says, his eyes moving over the sales clerk that is nodding to him. He then waves me towards the glass door.

"Let's go," he grins mischeviously.

Afterwards, the day settles down as fast as a blur. Nearing his sleek motorcycle, my steps slowly come to an halt.

"Where are we heading to?" I ask. He puts a hand on his nape, looking as gorgeous as ever in his casual posture. His hair is slightly rumpled from the wind and his dark suits sculpts his frame as flawless as this morning.

He slowly hums as he mounts the black leathered bench. "Do you have anywhere in mind?"

Reaching for the helmet, he hands it to me but I remain frozen in place.

"Are you expecting me to..." I point at the back of the bench.

"Come with me? Yes, I am."

I falter back, but he grabs my wrist in a fluid motion and gently pulls me to him.

"Don't you want to? You promised you'd spend the afternoon with me..."

Giving him a tight lipped smile, I reply, "The afternoon's gone now."

He tugs me closer, his arms circling around my waist. The touch is oddly familiar, and sparkles tingles somewhere in my stomach and heart.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of riding a motorcycle?"

His mocking tone is not lost on me. I retaliate as I can, trying not to stutter so as to not betray my jittery feelings.

"Of... Of course not!"

His eyebrows quirk up knowingly, before he reaches up to me, one hand palming the back of my head and bending my ear to his lips.

"I'd love to put you over my knees," he murmurs dangerously, his hold tightening as I try to jerk back. "Although I believe that wouldn't be very _safe_. Especially for you."

"W-what..."

He finally lets me head go, but clutches my hips in his embrace nevertheless. My cheeks feel on fire, as much as any surface of my skin he has touched. Heart drumming in my throat, I glance at anywhere but him, though my gaze finally lands on his up-turned lips.

A sinful smirk.

"You..."

"Sit where you want," he gestures behind him. "Or would you rather... let me choose where I wish you to?" Patting his leg, his smirk turns into a full ledged thrilled smile, and I reluctantly climb behind him.

"That was inappropriate to say," I mutter under my breath, but he catches the words nevertheless. His head tilts back and he huskily laughs as the engine roars to life.

—

Propped up on my elbows, my fingertips trace the straight bridge of his nose, up to his eyebrows. I'm still sleepy from the nap, my motion sluggish but my heart ever so intent. I draw the perfect curves of his closed eyes, down to his high cheekbones and along his sharp jaw.

I like having the power to touch him that intimately. It's heady, a desire stronger than anything. It won't last, not possibly more than seven days. Yet, that fire can't be put out. As he sleeps off the late afternoon, I silently watch him and unconsciously brand his features in my head with my touch.

Somehow, he looks worn off. Thin lines are etched under his eyelids, heavy with fatigue. Although I've slept peacefully last night, it seems like the serenity was solely one sided. Did he even sleep last night? Or was it because it had been a while since he ever got some respite?

His bleary disappearance had shocked everyone, but what we had all forgotten was... the one that had suffered most.

Usui Takumi.

Why did he do such thing? It still puzzles me up to now. Something must've happened that day. Something that led him to lose himself in the deceitful comfort of alcohol or whatever he had drank.

I slowly crawl out of the bed, and take a last look at him. He looks inoffensive in his slumber, almost vulnerable. I don't want him to hurt, but it is selfish to wish so. Particularly when I am supposed to be the one causing his downfall.

A soft strand of hair slides down his forehead, and I reach up to it to brush it back.

How would it feels like to love someone like him?

I don't know, and I refuse to picture it. Because we don't long for something we never had, I can only play pretend. And as I angle towards him and drop a soft kiss on his lips, it is only deception that fills my senses before I head downstairs.

Martha spots me on my way down the staircase.

"Ayane," she calls, her voice motherly. It hadn't even been three days and she already feels like a constant to me. As if she had always known me, deep down.

"What is Takumi doing? Do you wish to dinner yet?"

I glance at the fine and delicate wristwatch Usui had purchased for me. Right after we got home, he gave it to me, clipping it around my wrist to 'test whether it would fit or not' he had spouted very seriously. The truth is, men are all possessive, especially his kind. I came to that conclusion long ago, and his seemingly delicate gesture was in truth another sort of claim to me.

"He's taking a nap. I should better wait for him."

She tenderly smiles. "He is such a child with you, he must really trust you." She turns towards the hall before glancing at me. "Let me prepare you a little drink nevertheless. You look a little pale."

I thank her and survey the dining room. Few customers already are seated as I move to a far away table, near the waterside. My back is facing the window, and I keep my gaze towards the whole dining hall, in case someone would approach my location.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I check my surrounding for safety before texting Aren.

 _Did you get any pictures from today? I'm staying at The Riverside._

He replies ever so quickly.

 _Yes. And I'm already there._

I glance up from my phone and find a waiter walk my way with a glass of fresh smoothie.

"On the house, Miss," he says, effortlessly setting the tall glass down. I give him a small smile and he leaves, resuming his work.

On the spot, Aoi calls and I answer right on the mark.

"Yes?"

"What are you up to? I'm lonely at home," he snickers.

"Stupid," I lowly chuckle. "I might spend the night here again. I'm not sure but it's probable."

"Err, Misaki..." He pauses. "... Are you sure about it? I mean..."

"Staying here? Why not?..." I eye Martha coming towards me. I smile at her all naturedly. "Aoi, I think I have to go, sorry. I'll call you later," I usher quickly, though my face stays pleasant as if I had nothing to hide.

Martha reaches me and sits across me, gesturing me to go on with my phone call. I nod shyly, faking embarrassment and play along.

"Yes, of course, Grand Hall Exhibition. I might attend," I say. I hear Aoi laugh at the other end, before he changes his voice into an old gentleman's one.

"By all means, I do expect you there, Miss," he voices exaggeratedly, and I almost laugh out loud. I manage to change the thrill into a fancy giggle, feminine and quiet, exactly what I am supposed to be.

"Thank you for the invitation, and I will make sure to bring a companion," I say, before grinning at Martha.

"Surely, you will. In regards to seeing you, Miss."

"All the same." I cut the line, and Martha watches me with interest.

"Companion? Takumi will certainly be thrilled!"

I laugh good-heartedly. "I hope so, I don't know whether he will be available or not, though."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm sure he will make some time for you."

Martha is dreamy looking, and most obviously a romantic at heart. She talks about her deceased husband, sharing overly cheesy moments. I can't help but laugh, the scene she depicts with that spark in her eyes sounding over the top and yet, ever so overwhelming.

She paints a love story I will definitely never live through.

When the topic curves back to Takumi and myself, I dare to ask a few questions about him. They remain casual enough, and I gather more intel from Martha than I ever did with hours of talking to Usui.

"What about... His drinking habits?" I chance, hoping that I didn't go too far. She gives me a sad smile.

"What you've seen the other day... Please, don't be mistaken. He does not usually fancy alcohol... In fact, it's been ages since he ever drank any."

Her voice is low and secretive, as if she doesn't want anyone to hear. I glance up around and find the hall half filled than it was, an hour ago. The night is slowly falling, coloring the edge of the sky in dark streaks.

"I was just... curious," I reassure her. But her words instill dread and fear in my heart. Had something so unacceptable happened that day that he had to finally give in and drink?

"Do you know why..." I start, but her gaze drops to her hands and she slowly shakes her head.

"That, you will have to ask him, sweetheart," she smiles sadly, and stands up to leave. "Maybe you should wake him up, or he won't be able to sleep later tonight."

I give her a thin smile as she leaves.

When I get back upstairs, all the lights are out, leaving me tiptoeing around to our room. The door creaks open and I slide inside.

His blonde head is still visible under the covers, and when I approach, I hear him mutter. Puzzled, I edge closer and find him covered in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead. He whimpers roughly, a throaty gasp escaping his lips as he frowns in an agitated sleep. I'm unnerved, standing here and watching him fight his nightmares.

"U...Usui," I murmur. He doesn't answer, though his body does —by recoiling into the mattress. "Usui," I repeat, my palm brushing his cheek. He stills without a sound, his shivers making my own blood freeze cold.

"M-m... am sorry..." he blurts unconsciously. He snuggles my hand as if he finds solace in their warmth. Scorching hot and damp skin flush into my hand and I sit on the edge of the bed, pushing his sticky hair back. Looking for a cold compress or anything to wash his sweat away, I start to leave him but his quivers kick back in, making him shake his head with dread.

"No... Don't..." He softly cries. His voice is broken, exposed and raw.

He tugs the hem of my top, and pulls me back. Something heavy unfurls in my lungs, making me incapable of saying anything.

I try to shake him awake, anything to stop his nightmare. I start to tear the too warm cover from him, but he grips onto it and doesn't let go. His hands come to cover mine where I'm holding it, prying my palm up to his own cheeks. He clenches down on it, his hold strong and too tight.

Suffocating.

"Please, Usui!" I call, my own voice wavering. "Wake up, please, I'm here," I say.

He stops again, a low sob sounding from the back of his throat. I scoot his head up and gently hugs him. He stirs in my arms, clearing his throat. Dull emeralds blink up at me, still hazy and full of agitation. When he doesn't speak, I figure out that he might feel too ashamed, or rather don't want to talk about it. My heart beats fervently in my chest, and he must hear it. But he says nothing about it, and relish in my slow lull.

"Are you okay?" I whisper, my fingertips brushing his cold strands of hair.

He tries to speak with confidence but his voice is still unsteady. His arms come to curl around my waist, and he finally clears his throat once more.

"... I guess, now..."

"Dinner might be ready, if you are hungry," I slowly continue.

He shakes his head and stares forwards. "I'm not hungry."

"Me neither."

We don't move for a while, the mindless chatter of the customers downstairs reverberating to us in muted murmurs.

"Thank you," he finally speaks, glancing up at me. I simply smile at him, and he nuzzles his nose against mine in one of the sweetest gesture.

"...What do you want to do?" I ask after a contented silence. "Are you tired?"

His eyes close, arms squeezing me tighter.

"I feel like I can't sleep when you're not here. In my arms."

I silently chuckle. "Nonsense. Did you even sleep, last night?"

He rolls us over the bed, laying me under him.

"Maybe not," he confirms with a tired smile. "I was too busy watching you sleep, after all. You were too adorable, keeping me up all night."

Blood flushes up my cheek. "Then, don't look at me! No wonder you are so tired!"

"How can I even take my eyes off you?" He grins, his pale cheek recovering with his playful tone.

I tug his damp shirt, urging his head down as he towers over me.

"Close your eyes," I murmur against his lips. He does, and I pull him over me, before rolling him into the other side of the bed. I cuddle his back, one hand curling over his stomach as he faces the other side.

"Now you can sleep," I stutter, utterly embarrassed by my own actions. His back shakes with laughter, but he eventually stills. Palms covering my hand, he tugs me closer and sighs.

"You never cease to amaze me, sweetheart." I hear him chuckle.

—

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** _

_Aaah, sorry for late update, school is totally overwhelming!_  
 _But know that I think about you everyday, sometimes I even start to daydream in class, and my friends all know what I am thinking about!_

 _Heh, crap, I'm so bursted! xD_

 _Love, love, love!_


	9. Nine

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter nine.  
_ —

 _It's no secret.  
_

 _That both of our hearts might break somedays.  
When that time comes..._

 _Won't you hold my hand?  
_

—

* * *

—

How many days are passing like this?

Enough to know that it is all coming closer to the end. My heart is scared of looking back to the week that has gone through, afraid to long for something I'd never have again. Somehow, the timing is perfect to leave him, but does perfection even exist?

As the sun washes what's left of the night, I find myself tightening my hold on him, his blonde head flush against the crook of my neck as he slumbers. I dreadfully watch the clock ticking away what's left of my time. My brain makes a way-back movie of all that's happened, my casual friendship with Erine, the motherly figure Martha is for me, Aren's wiseness... And Takumi Usui.

The last past days have been punctuated with him fighting off his strange nightmares. He doesn't tell me much about it, his words evasive about that matter. Nonetheless, every time I come to hold him, he eases down as if he feels safe with me... I can't help but feel something tug at my heart.

Am I that precious to him?

 _If only..._

He stirs in my embrace, and I instantly close my eyes, feigning sleep. Long seconds pass before I hear him chuckle. Out of curiosity, I tentatively open an eye, only to find out he has expectantly been waiting for me to do so.

He grins ever so gorgeously. "You don't realize it, but you've been blushing and frowning the whole time," he playfully bites his lower lip, his fingertips coming up to lightly pinch my nose.

His mirth is infectious, making a shy smile spread on my features in spite of myself.

"Why Usui-san, are you saying that you can see through me or something?" I tease, although my words hold a different meaning than the lighthearted tone they deliver. I find it easy to act as Ayane lately. Easy enough to smile sweetly at him without second thoughts.

He rolls us over, pinning me underneath him. His expression remains lively enough that I don't worry about him knowing the ugly truth.

"If I did, what would you do?" He murmurs, tickling a sweet spot in my neck. I push him away and he disengages from me with that good-natured expression I am almost used to, now.

"I'd reply that you're a liar, and a bad one at that," I chastise. "You're going to be late for your plane, by the way."

He stares at me a little longer, his earlier grin dropping to a slight smile. "You're right," he murmurs, getting up and shuffling out the bed.

The smug grin is back on his face as he eyes me down from the clothes drawer, putting his classy watch wrist on. "Are you going to miss me?" He asks.

I shift in the comforter, sitting up to face him.

"It's only three days," I smile sweetly, even if something grips my heart and painfully squeezes it. _And_ _I won't be here when you'll be back, anyway._

"Are you really sure you don't want to come?" He asks, yet again. His business trip wasn't that far from here —about one hour away by plane, in Osaka. But why would I go when all I needed was to leave him?

"I'd love to, but I have some matters to tend to," I say, and somehow, it's not a lie. All I have to do is run away from you. And when he knows it, maybe would he finally hate me? He slides his loungewear top off, and I quickly look away. I hear him chuckle once more before he slips on a crisp white shirt and buttons it up.

"It's funny how shy you become sometimes," he says in a nonchalant tone. "When we kiss for instance, you're so bold, but you eventually end up blushing... almost innocently."

The said blush climbs back on my cheeks at the mention. I want to change the conversation topic, but I have no clue how. So I do what I do best.

 _Escape, Lie, Run._

"What... Nonsense," I voice, sitting up at the edge of the bed. "Let me help you with your luggage," I offer, standing up and taking his suitcase in my wake. I'm about to reach the doorknob, pulling it open but it shuts right back. Two firm palms press the door close behind me, and his proximity overwhelms me. Shadow towering over me, I don't dare to make a single move to turn around. A long second pass like that, with my heart in my throat.

"Usui?..." I whisper shakily, too conscientious of his presence right behind me to relax.

He leans down, his head resting on my shoulder as his breath fanes on my ear. I almost shiver uncontrollably.

"Are you that eager for me to go, sweetheart?" He murmurs, goose bumps peppering over my skin. I fight back the impulse to shove him back, the position being way too intimate for my health.

When I turn around, his eyes are dark, intently watching me. I take a deep breath, telling myself to play this game I've been in the last two weeks for a few more hours.

My hands slide up his hard chest, reaching for his shoulders. "I just don't want you to miss your plane," I say, my voice saccharine-sweet. His eyebrow raises as he slightly tilts his head. "I mean, it's important, right? Business meetings and all..."

An innocent smile curls his lips. "Not as much as you are. You will wait for me to return, right?"

I try to swallow the heavy lump in my throat. Could he know I had planned running away? Or was it just a way to showcase his caveman traits? Perhaps was it... Intuition?

"Am I your dog or something?" I quietly joke to lighten the atmosphere. He contemplates his answer for a little while, his emeralds still holding my gaze.

"I wish you were, so I could collar you... and maybe lock you in here until I'm back..." He finally replies, his tone edging on possessiveness. "Now, let me make you blush some more."

He edges closer, his lips a breath from mine. I push my back against the door, my head turning away from his searching lips. His words have awakened something in my heart. The satisfaction of being wanted —being desired that much— contradicts my free-will principles. I can't afford to stay with him like that...

Not when I have to let him go. To hurt him bad enough he wouldn't want to see my face ever more.

I softly push him back with an easy smile, rising on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

"Make me blush when you'll be back. I will wait for you, " I lie flawlessly. He doesn't say anything back and merely nods.

"Fine," he concedes, stepping back. "I'll do that."

And with that, I flash him a quick smile, before slipping out the room with his luggage. Closing the door behind me, I let myself three short seconds to exhale the breath I'd been holding in, before making my way downstairs.

My heart jumps when I spot Aoi in the dining room. When he notices me, he acts as if he doesn't know me. He opens a newspapers to cover his face, but I can see a slight smile gracing his lips.

Thank God he knows when to read into the situation. Still, it fazes me to know he's here. I give the suitcase to Martha, telling her to hand it over to the taxi waiting outside as I slip my smartphone off my pocket and text Aoi.

 _'What the heck are you doing here?'_ I text him.

The reply comes a few seconds after.

 _'You practically never replied to any of my text or calls the past week. Can't I have the right to see my BBF?'_

A sigh escapes my lips and I eye him again. This time, no one is looking at us, and he makes the best of it by waving childishly at me with a goofy grin on his face. I only glare back, lightning coming out of my ambers. He laughs quietly, hiding back behind his newspapers.

 _'It's seriously risky, you know that?'_ I send back, stepping past him to sit on a table feet away from his. I notice how he's dressed up; sunglasses and a stylish outfit that verges into cutesy rather than a classy gentlemanly style.

He shuffles in his seat, itching to turn around and directly talk to me. Only, he doesn't, because when he stares into his phone's screen, a second message pops up from me.

 _'Don't you dare to talk to me or I'll beat you up when I get home today.'_

His head dips on one side with prickled interest _. 'So you're done today? Will I get to see Mr. Mysterious that got to steal my roommate for a week?'_ He texts.

 _'Like hell you will...'_ I press the button and seconds later, I hear Aoi snickers at my answer.

I'm about to send another harsh expletive, but Martha calls my name over the humming chatter of the sparse customers. I look up, right in time to see Usui come downstairs in his charcoal suit. Well fitted and sharp looking, it clings to his frame, hinting at each of his hard planes.

After all this time, I still can't get used to his good looks. The goddamned tie he wears makes me want to tug on it... bite his jaw and make a mess out of his golden hair by running my fingers through it.

 _What did I just think about?..._

I internally slap myself. He's a wolf and I'm just a wishful hunter that will eventually get bitten... hard.

Usui's emeralds twinkle my way, the charismatic glint in his eyes ensnaring me to him. I instantly rise from my seat and make my way to him. Right when I reach him, his phone rings and he gestures for me to wait a minute. When he replies, it's in English, with a harsh tone —condescending and full of impatience. It takes him no more than a minute to conclude the phone call, and then, he whips the main door open, planning to go out without a glance back. Before he crosses the threshold, he freezes and spins around to face me.

One stride and he's in front of me, pulling my waist to him as he leans in for a kiss. The sudden abrupt motion makes me shift back in fear, causing him to stop in his tracks right before our lips brush. A displeased scowl looms on his face, and he vehemently sighs.

"See you in three days. You were right, I'm late," he quickly says, dropping his hold on me and drawing back. His mood shift makes my own mind waver.

"Uh, right... Stay safe..." I answer. The words barely have the time to slip out of my mouth that he's already outside, climbing inside the cab. And the black and shiny car rides away without another thought, making my heart heavier than it was, moments earlier.

Somehow, it pains me to know that our last encounter will end just like that.

Unable to go back inside the Inn, I directly make my way towards Aoi's car.

 _What if I chased Usui to the airport?_

The idea comes to my mind as totally absurd, but a spark of hope ignites my sense... Until I realize how truly stupid it is. I remain unmoving in front of the car for ten good minutes, pondering over how — _how?!_ — could I have ever thought of such a ridiculous thing. The atmosphere feels heavy despite the sun peeking in the morning sky and I call Aoi to drive back to the apartment we share, leaving behind all that could remind me of _him_ without another glance.

—

The drive remains silent, heavy contempt weighing our conversation. Aoi grasps my mood, and he's tactful enough not to make small talk. So he stays quiet, and I'm thankful for it. When we eventually reach home, I step out first, leaving him the care to find a parking lot for his car alone.

"Why the long face?" Aoi asks when he gets home and finds me on my bed, sitting against the wall.

I peer up at him, my brows knitting. "Who?"

He sighs, "I don't see many people in here, apart from you and me." Putting down his leather messenger bag, he kicks his shoes off and that's when I realize how messy it is in here.

I flop down on my bed. "I don't understand who you're talking about," I lie, covering my eyes with my forearm.

"You look like you've just got your heart broken."

"Nonsense," I tiredly reply.

"Yes-sense. Don't tell me you're going to mop like that all week long."

I don't say anything.

"He looks familiar, though."

My heartbeat suddenly kicks in, and I rise up, glancing at Aoi.

"Who does?"

He grins, because he finally has my attention. "Your blonde wolf in tailor-made suits."

I kind of want to strangle him. "He has a name, and it's definitely not... _that_ ," I vaguely gesture to whatever he had just said.

"Looks the part through," Aoi snickers, tongue in cheek. "Anyway, I feel like I've already seen him somewhere, but I don't remember..."

"He's a successful business man, wouldn't faze me to see him in those financial newspapers."

Aoi's jaw drops as he stares at me, dumbfounded. "Do I strike you as the type to read financial newspapers?"

A laugh bubbles out of my throat. "Fine, fine! A sport magazine one then, he has the looks, I guess," I argue.

"Once again, do I look like a sports fanatics to you, Misa-chi?" He plops down on his bed as if he just got stabbed in the heart. "Don't you know me at all?"

I make a placid face and he laughs. "I do, I'm just saying, you know? You could've seen him on the cover page in the convenient store or whatever..." I say, making a point.

"Well, I don't think so. But... Oh well. Who cares? You're done with him either way," he shrugs. "Gonna take a shower."

He leaves as briskly as he came, shutting the bathroom door behind him in a loud clatter. And silently, I mule over what he had just said.

 _So... I'm done... with Usui Takumi?..._

—

I'm often said to be stubborn. Perhaps a little more headstrong and single-minded than average. That's how I find myself in Aren's car the next day, after a sleepless night full of remorse and unrest.

I just need closure, is that too much to ask?

Aren doesn't question my deeds, simply leading me to wherever I'd like to go. He knows why I'm heading to Osaka. That's because it's where Usui Takumi will be. He knows, because he was the one who had done the researches, weeks ago.

I didn't bring anything with me. Akin to a fugitive on the run, all I have is my everyday handbag, and that is it. I don't plan to stay there anyway.

I don't even know how I'll get that overrated closure.

The drive should've taken less than three hours, but here we are, bordering on four and a half because of road congestions. The traffic is awful even though we are on week days, and rain starts to splatter on the car's windscreen. When Aren asks me where I plan to stay, it occurs to me that I haven't made any hotel reservations. Pulling my phone out, I scour any hotels rooms close to the five-stars resort Usui stays in, and find none.

Staring up at the grey sky, a foreboding feeling squeezes my lungs tight. _What am I even doing here anyway?_

"I don't think I'll stay the night anyway," I sigh, desperately giving up on my fruitless researches. "Maybe I could sleep in the car," I laugh, although it really is an option I'm considering.

"Ma'am, you cannot do that. I will book you a room whenever you'll be under Mr. Usui Takumi's care," Aren says dutifully.

I don't reply anything, my gaze silently straining over the evening loom on the Osaka's city. I think about the speech I'll tell Usui, explaining him why I am even here. It's lame, starts with ' _Umm_ ' and doesn't have any coherent literary structure... But who cares?

 _Will he?_

The car slides into the park area of the Osaka's premier resort spa, halting in front of the reception area. I blink at the grandiose setting, the lights warm and gold illuminating the palace in the night. A porter opens the car's door, helping me out of the car and I'm led inside with smiles and utmost respect. I'm glad I wore the graceful white lacy dress to keep a semblance of appearances when the attendant takes care of my light trench coat.

The lobby is stretching on miles of elegant and polished marble floors, the atmosphere palatial and ornate with two grand staircases circling down on each side of the room.

"Excuse me, it's for a visit to the room 42-3, seventeenth floor," I say hesitantly to the man, uneasiness still embedded in my voice.

"Of course. To who may we call this visit?" The attendant nods as usual. When he sees I don't reply anything, he motions me towards the elevator. "This way, please, my lady."

As we wait for the elevator, the question left unanswered still hovers over my head. The stare I get from the attendant gradually turns a little more watchful. Do they think I am some kind of paparazzi? I gulp my pride down and opt for the best, and most believable solution.

"His wife. It's a surprise." I want to slap myself at the words, but fortunately, it makes the man eases down right away.

"Oh," he murmurs with a quiet smile. I return it without another word and the elevator's gate opens right on time. The ride up passes in a flash, my hands getting sweaty with apprehension. My heart painfully kicks in my chest, unsure of anything that is going to happen in the next minutes whereas the speech I've prepared flies out of my head, leaving only a remnant of words that just makes no senses.

A clear tint of a bell rings, and the door opens on the dreaded floor.

"We've arrived, madam," the man says, his palm covering the door's sensor captors. I shift nervously, telling myself that going back is still an option, but when I look at the doorman's eyes, it's already too late.

"Yes, thank you," I voice, clearing my throat and straightening my spine.

 _Be brave. Walk to his door... Tell him goodbye... And turn the page without looking back._

We walk through the corridor, my high heels brushing the soft and majestic red carpet. Usui Takumi's room is the last one —granted with a sinful corner view, I surmise— and I'm not wrong. The attendant doesn't wait for my approval and immediately knocks on the door. I can't help but feel utterly anxious.

Hasty steps come our way and it finally opens after long and oppressing seconds.

Irresistible emeralds, disheveled blonde hair and a kissable jaw, Takumi's eyes immediately hold mines over the attendant's shoulders with a look I cannot decipher. He's wearing his sharp suit in a lazy way that makes him the damnest most attractive. Nodding once, the domestic departs with considerate respect, leaving only Takumi and myself at the door's threshold.

His lean form peruses me with an amused expression, leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Ever so slowly, he grins, his lips curling up and it's so indecent and seductive that my knees weaken at the sight.

"I'm impressed."

His voice is smooth and husky, with a hint of a chuckle. I can barely hold his gaze but the words flow out nevertheless.

"Well... And I'm in love," I blurt.

—

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _Uh-OH! 0v0 She...She just-... Uwah..._

 _Merry christmas everyone!  
_ _Somehow, this year has been quite eventful, and I'm grateful to all of you!_

 _ **PS:** Thanks to all my reviewers, you guys are wonderful, I wouldn't say 'Do not change' but rather, 'Keep doing what you do', because your amazingness only keeps growing =)  
_

 _Much LOVE!_


	10. Ten

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter ten.  
_ —

 _Rain.  
It pours...  
All over my skin, my heart and soul._

 _And somehow, I wish it wasn't those cold tears...  
Running down my cheeks._

 _But your warm lips._

—

* * *

—

His expression is sheer shock. He blinks once, twice, and finally clears his throat.

Shaking his head, he manages to make his sandy blonde hair even messier than it initially was. When he takes a step forward, it's to grab my waist and pull me inside the room. My senses are in a flurry, and I don't even have the time to take in my surrounding that he's already all over me, pushing me against the door.

His voice is a murmur, but its softness is lost for sharp edges.

"Don't say it unless you mean it," he whispers urgently as he gazes into my ambers. He looks so serious I momentarily forget to breath.

"I... um..." I stutter, my eyes downcast, unable to look into his emeralds. But then, his lips stretch into that gorgeous grin he owns so well.

"Wife, huh? I like it."

"Uh?" I voice distractedly, staring at his smile, his lips —bewitching and too charming to tear my gaze from. "Wait, what!?" I suddenly gasp, my eyes reverting back to his mischievous green one.

"They told me my wife was coming to see me," he casually says, straightening up and letting me go. I pace to the center of the room, utterly flustered. My thoughts went haywire inside of my mind right after I'd confessed to him.

"It was just..." I hesitate, "—a diversion."

"A diversion."

He slowly repeats the words in a sing-song voice, his accent curling around the syllabes, savoring it. As he slowly stalks up to me, his fingers come up to his tie to loosen it... albeit too dangerously for my heart to take. "It is a very much distracting diversion, indeed... _wife_."

"I'm not your _wife_... I just wanted to make sure I'd get to see you," I say, trying to keep my cool. But it's pointless, because he keeps getting closer to where I stand, and I can't help but feel... something stir inside of me.

"Right," he murmurs. His voice is a sin, tempting me with his deep and velvety tones.

He steps closer.

I take a slow stride back.

A slow and lazy grin stretches his lips.

He knows how I feel, doesn't he?

My heart beating a mile, I suddenly exclaim with false enthusiasm, "What a beautiful view!" and quickly leap towards the glazed wall displaying Osaka's night view. It makes him chuckles keenly.

"How obvious could you be?" He teases, laughing huskily at my evident escape to his proximity. I turn around, pressing my back against the cold glass to face him. A shiver runs up my spine, and I could blame the frozen surface I'm leaning on... —But maybe it is all because of the provocative glance he gives me.

Our eyes lock as he slides his tie off, his movements slow and deliberate. His suit's jacket drops next, right onto the floor. My eyes widens with alarm, my cheeks flushing crimson.

"Wh... What are you doing?" The words come out hasher than I intend them to be, making me add a low and very hesitant "... _Honey_?"

He laughs at the term of endearment.

"Well, _sweetheart_ ," he drawls from his height. "I intend on making you my _wife_ , of course."

"Your... _wife_ ," I echo, dumbstruck. "You're crazy..." I sigh and shake my head at the absurdity.

He chuckles briefly, his hand raking his golden messy hair. "Very much so. Want a drink?"

Before I can answer, he disappears into another room. I exhale in relief, glad to cut the strange and sizzling atmosphere that had started getting out of control there.

When he comes back, it's with two champaign glasses and a fancy labeled bottle. He lazily walks to me and sits down at my feet. The simple fact that he's barefoot —with the two top button of his white shirt off— makes him off-charts delicious. He looks so cozy and different from the Usui Takumi I had first met; The sharp and heartless businessman I happened to hate.

The sofa, loveseats or even the bed is only feet away. And yet, he lightly tugs on the hem of my dress, prompting me to sit down beside him.

Here we are; simply leaning against the cold glassy floor to ceiling window, and sharing a glass of champaign. A slight smile curls my lips at the mere idea of a CEO sitting on the floor.

"What is it?" He glances up at me, holding me out a thin glass. I thank him, the smile still playing on my lips.

"I was just thinking," I voice, almost to myself. "How there's so many thing unexpected in the expected... Does that make any sense?" I take a small sip of the drink before gazing out at the night view. A myriad of golden lights reflects back to me, each sparks the telling of another person's life, somewhere in this dark sea.

"It does, and I agree," he says after a while, himself surveying the night view. "I had never expected you to come here." His voice is a murmur, and he tips my chin to him, seeking for my attention.

 _Emeralds, Viridian, Forests and Jades._

I think I've never loved somebody's eyes that much.

Tearing my eyes from his, I rest my head against his shoulder and he instantly curls an arm over my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. The gesture is so natural, as if I had always belonged there for years instead of days.

 _If this was goodbye... I wish it'd never end._

Closing my eyes, I revel in the stolen moment.

I love the way he softly plays with my hair, smoothly curling the slight ends between his fingertips. I love his smell... The way his voice cracks a little when he's tired. How he leans in and kisses my head with affection.

He smothers me with a tenderness I'm not sure to ever experience again.

"Was it true?" He asks as I gradually melt in his arms. I hum a short questioning sound, not grasping the meaning of his words.

He shifts a little, making me sink deeper into his embrace.

"That you love me."

My throat suddenly goes dry. When he figures that I'm trying to sit up, he holds me a little tighter. "Don't run, please. Not now."

 _Not ever,_ I want to cry.

"Would it mean that I've lost, if I did love you?" I ask, my voice shaking. "Aren't we simply playing a game, here?" Emotions start to bubble up within me, threatening to choke me. It doesn't blur my vision yet, but I can feel it coming...

He doesn't answer anything, but his grip on me doesn't soften nonetheless. In fact, it's all the opposite. He cradles me in his arms, my head in the crook of his neck.

 _Just where I wished to belong a little longer_.

"Marry me," he whispers quietly and the words scare me so much I can't breathe.

"What?... No... No way..." I frantically shake my head.

"Marry me, won't you?" He asks once again. Hot tears stream down my cheek, dampening his shirt's collar with bitter lies.

"You don't even know me!" I struggle in his hold. When he releases me, it's to firmly take my face between his palms. His gaze touches each of my features, roaming upon my face with delicacy. I know what he's searching for, and it kills me every single time.

 _Not me.  
Ayane Ravens, was it?_

"You can't marry a stranger..." I whisper softly, seeing in his green eyes only fondness and a hint of anguish. It's more honesty I can endure and I avoid his gaze. "It's been barely two weeks..."

"It's plenty enough to know I want you in my life," he words out, his voice stiff at my refusal. His eyes still peruse me, trying to behold what's inside of my soul.

"You're crazy," I laugh derisively, the overflow of tears making it hard to see. "To marry a woman you don't eve—..."

He interrupts me with a wet kiss.

It's slow and precious.  
And so... So desperate...

"You don't understand," he whispers against my lips, a painful expression etched on his features. "I know you, even if you try to hide yourself to me... Ever since I've laid my eyes on you—..."

 _'You are the one that doesn't understand!_ ' I almost scream, but it doesn't come out. "... I... have secrets..." I rashly reveal instead.

"It doesn't matter." His voice is vulnerability and confidence altogether as he whispers those words many would die for. "I just love you for who you are."

Another kiss.

"And you love me too," he breathes against my cheek, his breath brushing the hot trail of tears up to my eyes.

Another kiss.

"So... Marry me?"

He doesn't let go and holds my gaze, unwaveringly. Emeralds, Ambers... When he sees my indecision, he softly chuckles, his fingertips wiping my tears away.

"What is it, that you have to hide so badly, then?" He asks, demanding an explanation to my earlier claims.

I want to tell him, but the words are stuck in my head, refusing to make it out of my throat. Instead, what comes out is so far from the loathsome truth, I am myself surprised by my words.

"I'm... not always so _gentle_ ," I sniffle, my eyes downcast to his neck. As I tower over him, I grip his opened shirt's collar a little tighter. The fabric crumples underneath my fingertips. "I can be a bit... ungraceful, sometimes. Even... salvage...?"

"Is that so?" A dark glint of amusement courses through his forest eyes.

"Yes," I admit, my fears receding. "In fact, I'm not the person you've been with at all, you know," I continue, "I'm hot-tempered too! And I'm not very nice. In fact, I'm mean. I get angry very easily, and I start to hit and...uh... Why... Why are you smiling that much?..."

His nonchalant smile widens into a grin.

"Well, I had enough reasons to love you already, wife."

Blood rushes up my cheek. My face feels kind of hot.

"You... You're stupid!"

"Ah... What was it already? Ah, _mean_ , was it?..." he mocks with a smirk. "You're so mean, it's tearing my heart in two," he mimics foolishly before his expression turns back into a serious one, his eyes darkly dropping to my lips. "Now I need someone to kiss it better... Won't you?"

"Whoa, you're crazy."

"Only for you."

"That was so cheesy."

"I know," he grins uninhibitedly, the dark beast in his eyes gone. "So you're a mean person?"

"Yes," I nod slightly, drying what's left of my tears away.

"And sometimes, you become... ungraceful?"

"Exactly."

"You also get violent."

My lips faintly curve up. "Yup."

"You get angry very easily."

"Yes."

"Would you hit me?"

"Totally," I say, thinking about all the times I wanted to indulge.

"Would you punch me in the face or something?"

"I'd love to."

"Would you marry me?"

"Yea—... Uh... wait..." The words he's just said dawns on me. "I meant... No! No way!"

A victorious grin lights up his face. Still, I can't help but want to laugh and murder him at the same time.

"It's too late, the deed's done," he gets up and sweeps me off my feet, carrying me with him.

"Wait! I said n—..." he stops me with a kiss and takes me to the bed. I try to kick and run, but his hold on me is tight enough so that I hardly do any damage.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaim as he throws me onto the soft mattress. I motion to get up but he climbs onto me, his weight pining me down. "Geez, Takumi!" I glare at him, weakly pushing him away.

He's having a blast, though. "We have to consummate our marriage," he grins and my jaw almost drops.

"WHAT?!" I stutter alarmingly before jumping at him to kill him and he laughs with glee.

Then, I don't know how it starts, but we get into some sort of wrestle fight. He tickles me until I can't breathe and I do the same to him. We push and roll around, messily tangling our feet and trying to make the other fall out of the bed. It's childish and incredibly stupid, and yet, we can't help but laugh until our stomachs hurt and our voices go breathy.

Eventually, we stop and roll on our backs, facing the high ceiling. The remnant of our laugh punctuate the room. Maybe have we drank too much, maybe it wasn't enough...

My hair is a mess because of him, and my lipstick is all over his shirt as I had tried to bite him several times. Clothes mussed up, my dress hikes up my legs, the delicate collar stretched open. It slides down one of my shoulder in a casual fashion I'd be embarrassed about, in any other circumstances. He's not in any better shape though, his white dress shirt void of any button left, showcasing his smooth and hard chest.

We glance up at each other and take in the state we're in, a silly smile on our face. He drifts closer and the back of his fingers slowly come to brush my lower lip. My smile slowly fades away.

"Every person in this world has a little thing in their life that makes them smile..." He murmurs. All I can see is soft reverence in his eyes. "Maybe I've finally found mine."

I think this heartfelt moment will forever stay engraved in my mind, in my soul. And just when I think he couldn't make it anymore perfect, he kisses me with the sweetest and most vulnerable touch.

Something ignites within my heart.

And I just give in.

 _Thoughtlessly._

—

It's in the middle of the night that my eyes finally open. His embrace is so warm, our feet tangled under the comforter. I feel his skin brush against mine, and that's when I realize how far we went.

Despite it all, I spend a last second looking at his face. I can't help it. His sandy blonde hair brushes his forehead as he softly exhales. He wears upon his face one of the most peaceful sleeping expression I ever seen in all those two weeks. I try to keep capture it in my mind, because somehow, I don't want to forget him. Not anymore.

I'll just keep him bottled up somewhere in my mind.

Carefully, I extricate myself from his embrace, crawling out of the bed after some hardships. The cold air makes my bare skin sensitively freeze when I leave the warm shelter —that was him and the comforter.

I can barely stand on my legs when I get up. It takes me a while to get used to that sore feeling. I clumsily prance around, retrieving my underwears on the floor. I find my dress scattered somewhere at the feet of the bed and slip it back on. It is in an awful state, but I don't have any other options.

My heels are in the other side of the room, and I make it to it with discreet steps, wary of the sleeping form on the bed. When I still, his regular breathing comforts me, making my panicky heart rate ease down.

I retrieve the shoes, and go back to the front area to leave him a word.

 _'Thank you for everything.  
But all good things comes to an end...  
I'm sorry for deceiving you.  
—Ayane.'_

I take a look back at the note and it suddenly feels too much for the current situation. Soon enough, his life or career will likely fall to pieces because of me. I tear it away and quickly take another paper.

 _'You've been fun to play with.  
But in the end, it's Game Over for you.  
Thanks for the prize —that was you;  
but I don't want it anymore.  
—Ayane.'_

Was that bitchy enough? A bitter laugh echoes in my head. Alongside the note, I leave the delicate wristwatch he bought me on the table. I don't need another reminder of him. Especially not when he's already in my damn mind every freaking seconds of my life.

When I open the front door, I don't take a look back. I'm too ashamed to. Too heartbroken by my own cowardice.

 _Closure._

 _—_

I don't call Aren to get back home. Instead, I buy a last minute bullet-train ticket to the one departing in less than half an hour. In the meantime, I text some grateful thanks to Aren and get rid of the sim-card that had Takumi's phone number... I still keep his number locked in my private cellphone though.

Go figure.

The ride back home is uneventful. I get lost in the rising dawn, the sun still living its own life even though mine just got wrecked apart. My phone doesn't stop ringing, but I hardly care. I tell myself that in a few day, everything will go back to normal, but it's hard to believe. I just need sometime alone. It was just a job, after all.

But the tears won't stop.

Pressing my temple against the cold window pane, I let myself lull with the track's cadence. And my eyes close painfully.

 _Please, tell me...  
_ _Why does it hurt so bad?_

 _—_

It's still early in the morning when I make it back home. Aoi's mindlessly sleeping, unaware of all the heartache I feel. I take a shower, changing myself in loose and easy clothes. Tidying up the mess he made during the week I wasn't there, my mind is kept busy with duties. Still, I sometimes find myself blanking out, thinking about last night.

His laughs. His voice. His touch.

 _Is being in love that dysfunctional?_

It almost feels unhealthy, to be honest. When I'm done tidying up, Aoi's still passed out. I come up to him, take a few steps back to jump right in. I need some joy. I refuse to stay here and mope around all day, dreaming about the things that I could never have.

"WHOAA...uh!" Aoi jumps up in a frightened scare when I hop onto him.

"What's up, Chibi," I laugh at his reaction. He only pouts and pulls the cover back on, evading the strong sunrays.

"Certainly not me," he grumbles and I laugh once more at the punch-line.

I rise up and get onto my bed. "So, what's on the plan today? 'Think I'll have to call the office for more job prospects."

He shuffles in his bed a bit, getting more comfortable under the covers. "Actually, I went there yesterday... You had one waiting for you already," he yawns. "It's on the kitchen table..."

I instantly climb out of his bed. The heavy manila envelope lays there on the counter as mentioned. Grabbing it, I plop down _—_ back into my own bed _—_ and start to open it. But when one picture slips out and drops to the floor...

I just freeze, because...

Printed emeralds gaze back at me.

 _—_

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _DUN-DUN-Dunnnnn!~ *wide eyed*  
I don't know how many time I've said it, but you guys are just so sweet and lovely... It makes me all mushy inside... Thanks so much!  
_

 _Next chapter,  next week! Stay put, my lovelies! :D_


	11. Eleven

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter eleven.  
_ —

 _I walked a long way in the dark.  
_

 _Maybe the path was long gone,  
But I thought you'd hold my hand...  
_

 _Safely._

 _Until you forsake me.  
_

—

* * *

—

 _Usui Takumi._

It just can't be.

I stare at the picture for long seconds before I harshly tear open the rest of the envelope. The content scatters on my bed, the usual procedure documents and pictures covering my bedspread.

It's insane; insanely impossible, and yet...

 _It's happening._

I find a white letter in the clutter that overlays my bed. It's light and doesn't seem to contain much. I tear it open with trembling fingers.

 _Agent No. 423  
P.O. Box 4-23  
Yokohama, Japan_

 _To Agent No. 423,_

 _We are pleased to inform you of your client's satisfaction upon the case U.T-708. Upon discussion, it was decided to renew the contract, as the client's need is yet to be entirely fulfilled. We request a 14-days prolongation to your case, and hope that you will see fit to achieve the case to completion._

 _Enclosed is an upfront payment, in the event that you consent to the terms._

 _To set up an appointment to discuss your specific needs, please contact the enclosed phone number._

 _With our best regards,  
The staff._

And sure enough, I find an endorsed check with the sum of...

"...What... The... WOAH!" Aoi's voice startles me and I jump in fright, clutching the paper to my chest.

He smirks at my reaction, before snatching the check from my hands. "Won't you share, Misa-chi?" He laughs, eyeing the great amount of money on the check.

$10,000.00...

If ten thousand dollars is the prepayment, then, what would the full payment be? Probably enough to pay for one long year of Suzuna's hospital fee...

"Give it back, Aoi. I have to send it back," I say nevertheless.

Confusion paints his face. "What...? You're not going to accept _this_?"

I slowly shake my head. He still holds onto the check though.

"Are you _crazy_? _Drunk_?" He asks incredulously.

I don't meet his eyes. "No, I'm sane and very much aware of my acts, thank you." I lunge for the check but he pulls back and crosses his bed, keeping a resolute distance from me.

"You're refusing ten thousand dollars and you dare say you are... _fine_?" He continues, his astute eyes narrowing on me. "What is it, Misaki?"

"What is what?" I spit, furor growing inside of me.

"You're crying. Why?"

I wipe my eyes dry. "Bullshit. Give it back to me, Aoi, or I swear..." I don't continue my threat because a sob slices right through my voice, making it break. "What the hell," I murmur before being engulfed by Aoi's arms.

The check is long forgotten on his bed as he gently sets me down on the floor.

"What's wrong with you," he coos softly, patting my head as he holds me in an Aoi-bear-hug.

"I don't understand why I'm so emotional, lately," I half-laugh, half-sob, eyeing the ceiling to swallow back the tears. A nasty voice inside of my head tells me that I obviously know _why_ , but I push it away. "I usually never cry, for God's sake..." I say in a watery huff, wiping the corner of my eyes with the back of my hand.

Aoi laughs gingerly at my girly complains.

"Right? It's high time to kick some ass," he grins, albeit inoffensively. But I see how with jaw is set tight, his fists clenching with silent resentment.

Drying my tears away, I sigh, before getting out from his embrace. I reach for the check as Aoi pouts, watching my every moves. He doesn't stop staring at me —and won't— until I give him an answer.

"Listen, it's just—..."

"—blablabla," he gestures blabbers with his hand. "Don't you dare give me half-baked excuses. In the three years we've lived together, I never saw you cry. Not even once. Until..." His eyes narrow all the more. "Him."

Before I can make a movement, he dives on my bed and retrieve the picture of Takumi and the letter. He reads it aloud.

"We are pleased to... —case U.T... —whatever." He stops me in my track as he reads, his hand gesturing me to stay where I sit. "Upon discussion, it was decided to renew the contract... —We request a 14-days prolongation to your case. Enclosed is an upfront payment, — _Upfront payment?!—_ in the event that you consent to the terms?!"

His jaw slackens as he watches me peculiarly. Then, he glances at the picture in his hand. When his gaze falls back on mine, in his eyes is a trace of sad compassion I didn't ever want to see.

"The wolf in suits."

"It's Usui ... Usui Takumi," I bite out, finding out how hard it is to say that name. I quickly grab what he has in his hands, putting it all back into the half torn manila envelope. "Whatever, I'm giving those back."

Piling up all the content on my bed, I also slip them inside the envelope.

"How?" Aoi asks from where he stands. He has his phone in hand, and seem to be looking for something.

"Call them, cancel that and ask for another case, I guess." I step to the doorway to retrieve my smartphone left in my coat. "Not the first time I happened to decline a job, anyway."

Aoi nods as I start dialing the number on the paper. A woman picks up the call and greets me with her usual respectful demeanor.

"What can I do for you?"

I tell her my worker's ID —no. 423— and explain to her that I cannot take the application they sent me. Everything goes by smoothly, and I'm half flooded with relief. No matter how great the pay was, I know I wouldn't be able to go back to him. Not after the note I had left him, and especially not with how dangerously close to real our _fake_ relationship had become.

I had my closure after all.

Aoi sneaks out of the house before I end my call. As I have to wait a few days for them to send a new application to the post box downtown, the day passes without much surprise.

Actually, nothing happens.

I'm greeted by unwanted emptiness. I nap, go out for a walk, help some neighbors to move in. Checking my call log, I see Erine's name pop up a few time but I don't dwell on it. I try to find anything to do, anything not to think of those emeralds eyes that haunt me.

I wonder what he thought of the note, when he woke up.

 _'You've been fun to play with.  
But in the end, it's Game Over for you.'_

Was he disappointed?

 _Indifferent?  
Delighted?  
Heartbroken?  
Enraged?_

I'd never know, but I can't help but imagine his expression. All I see is hurt, ache and pain gracing his face. And it's another vicious blow to my aching heart.

Surely he wouldn't try and look for me, would he? The man I came to know isn't such a desperate man... But maybe I wish he was, a little.

In every single roads I take outside, every place I walk to and happen to spot a blonde head... My blood starts to thrum in my ear, pulse pounding in my body. I know, it's not him. But still, I'm afraid of meeting him just like that, although I doubt he would recognize me in my current attire. My real self never wears dresses and feminine colors, after all.

Mostly faded jeans and a hooded sweat.

God, I feel so pathetic, constantly thinking about this.

It's been barely few hours. I dread the next days, because if this is how they're going to be, it surely is my new description of the word 'hell'.

Lightly slapping myself on both cheek, I get into the convenience store. Making most of my time by buying groceries, I head home, hoping that the rest of my day won't be as burdensome as I think it will.

The next mornings all look the same to me. For a week long, I entertain the same day schedule. A morning footing, waking Aoi up, groceries, tidying up and waiting.

I like to pretend I'm all better; to fool myself into thinking that I'm back to the one I was, weeks ago.

I smile. I laugh.

Daily.

Having nothing to do is quite the torture.

"Why are you so damn enthusiastic, woman," Aoi complains grumpily as I nudge him off his bed. It's been a week already, but he still is the same grumpy teen every morning. "Don't you know what time it freaking is?" He slurs, pulling his comforter with him.

I glance at the time clock. "Late enough for you to wake up."

"I bet it's not even nine yet..."

"Actually, it is, and a half."

He suddenly rises, sitting up. "You're kidding, right?"

A frown. "No?"

Then he scurries out of the bed, faster than lightning. "Oh my god I'm late, I'm late..." He says as he grabs some clothes, making a mess out of his drawer I've just cleaned up.

I lazily grab the several clothes flying my way. "Where are you going?"

"Uh... Appointment," he stammers, his ears blushing the slightest.

"Oh, really?" I smirk. "And who is the lucky lady?"

His eyes throw daggers at me. "Why would you assume that?"

"Come on, just tell me," I push.

Unexpectedly, he concedes after disappearing into the bathroom.

"Erine."

"Erine?"

"The angel... yeah."

My mind goes back to the few missed calls I've received from her. Erine is way too close to Takumi, my Ayane persona and my plain self. She was more astute than she had let on. That's why I shut her off, ignoring her calls.

She could touch the truth, if she hadn't yet.

"You can't do that!" I quickly shout through the door.

The door to the bathroom flies open and he gets out, all properly dressed. "You're the one who introduced her to me," Aoi shrugs.

"She's Usui's cousin—..."

"—Aaand, I think you should go take your job applications yourself this time." He says, trying to change the conversation's topic. I don't give in, though.

"Fine, and you should cancel that date of yours," I glare, intercepting his wrist as he cuts through me.

He quickly disengages. "I really need to see her. I swear I won't tell her anything about you. It's all about... her and I... you know?" He says sheepishly. I yank on his shoulder, gripping his arm to turn him around.

"But she knows already!... She knows who we are. —Maybe it's all _his_ plans, Aoi!" I try to argue, but he doesn't listen and breaks my hold again. "You're being stubborn, Aoi!" My voice rises desperately as I start reaching for him.

"You're the one being stubborn!" He spatters back with furor, making my steps towards him falter. I've never seen him speak up like that to me. A tinge of pain stabs me, and it must've shown, because his expression changes into a guilty but yet univocal one. "I... need to see her, so I'm going to, and that's it."

He swipes on his jacket and hastily puts on his shoes, stepping out. The door closes in a swift clatter, making me grimace. I loudly fume in the apartment, throwing things only to tidy them back. In retrospection, I'm glad that I was finally angry and mad rather than sad and only longing to cry.

I wanted to hit something. Tear it apart.

 _Scream and yell._

Taking off in a flurry, I steer to the Post Office by car. The ride is kind of a long way away from here, but it maybe is for the best. Speeding across the highway, I feel like my whole purpose is more to relieve myself rather than to reach a desired destination. My emotions are heavily weighing in my chest, but I make-do with it.

Do I even have a choice, anyway?

One full hour later and I get in front of the Post Office. I park the car without much concern and get inside of the rundown building. No greetings, no smile, I directly walk to the post lockers. Opening the designated box, I find several manila envelopes, but most are for Aoi.

Two are under my ID.

I take them all and lock the box, leaving as fast as I stormed in. Back into the confinement of my car, I glance around. The area is empty, save for a few rundown cars parked here and there.

Eager to finally start a new project, a smile grants my face as I tear open the manila fold engraved to my name. But despair shoots me in the guts once I scan the content.

 _Usui Takumi._

"Please, no..." I swallow back the lump sitting in my throat.

Tearing the white envelope that came along, I find another $10,000.00 endorsed check and the same letter, prior to one week.

 _Agent No. 423  
P.O. Box 4-23  
Yokohama, Japan_

 _To Agent No. 423,_

 _We are pleased to inform you of your client's satisfaction upon the case U.T-708. Upon discussion, it was decided to renew the contract, as the client's need is yet to be entirely fulfilled. We request a 14-days prolongation to your..._

I drop it with a scowl and open the other manila fold to my name.

 _U.T-708._

Again.

I tear it down.

Shreds of paper fall on my knees, useless and unwelcomed. Are they making a fool of me? I feel played upon, getting laughed at by my misery.

Certainly they do not think they'll get away with it, will they?

Thoughts of Suzuna, the hospital fees, my bank account and the end of the month coming closer fill my mind, making my grip on the steering-wheel tighten. White knuckling it, my nails dig into the leather with restrained frenzy.

I let a laugh bubble out, but it's not a merry one. No; it's full of bitterness and negative feelings. Riled up, I dial the office's number.

"What can I do f—..."

"—Surely listen to what I say..." I grit out, trying to temper myself.

A pause. "Your ID please."

"Four. Two. Three." I say, before taking a deep breath.

Another pause ensues. "You canceled the case U.T -708 last week, and now... You were re-applied for U.T-708," she declares in an indifferent voice.

"Can you see the bullshit going on or do I have to spell it for you?" I hiss with ire.

She clears her voice. "My deepest apologies, but these matters are beyond my control."

"How nice..." I bitterly shake her off. "Can't you just get me a case that's not labeled as this one?"

"All I can do is withdraw the application and submit another demand."

I can't believe it. It's even damn worse than customer service phone calls. "Give me the Direction's number, then," I urge, not wanting to delay the whole process.

"I'm afraid they only take appointment, and that is, if they see fit," she says, her tone irritable. It's not exactly her fault, indeed. But I still feel pretty icky about the whole circumstances. I simmer down, leaving a long and heavy exhale go.

"Can I request an appointment then, please?"

"Of course. When will it be f—..."

"Right now."

My patience has always been an eminent flaw of mine.

"I'm afraid th—..."

"I want an appointment in the next half hour," I continue. "ID is 423. Please, text me the location and confirmation. Thank you," I say, hanging up. I instantly feel remorseful for the way I've acted towards the woman, but I don't find the strength to call back and apologize.

As I wait in my car, passersby cross the street and several cars pass by in a blur. My phone rings and makes my heart race but it's only Aoi. I don't want to talk to him yet and cancel the call, happy to let him know that I'm deliberately making his line go straight into voicemail.

Not that I hate him or anything, but I don't trust myself to face him with collected thoughts yet.

When I watch the screen light up, two messages pop up, one from my voicemail telling me I have a missed call, and the other from an unknown number.

 _'Confirmed. 2:30PM.  
ARC Consulting, 226 E. Fee Ave,  
45-24-5, Yokohama.  
Address to the reception as Mrs. Shinisan and follow the procedure.' _

Stunned for a second, I re-read the text message. I feel skittish, seeing that my bitchy complain have succeeded in granting me an immediate appointment. Setting my phone's GPS, I ignite the car's engine and drive right away.

The ride is short, my brain overworking for a speech while my mind is full of worries. Coming up to the Direction for a petty complain... Isn't that too presumptuous of me?

Still, I can't back down now, even when I get in front of the building and find myself totally dominated by an imposing and tall skyscraper.

Getting out of the car, I step into the plaza and head right into the ARC Consultant's building. The reception area is clean and modern. It's all glassy floor to ceiling windows, granite marble and luxurious green plants. My jeans and light blue hoodie feel totally out of place among all the professionally clad employees that busily stride across the lobby.

I get to the receptionist; a young man, sharply dressed in a suit. I earn a curious glance from him that I instantly dismiss.

"I have an appointment. Mrs. Shinisan."

His eyes widen, and he scurries up, grabbing the phone in his palms. He looks kind of accident prone, his sweaty palm almost making the phone slip out his hold. I bite back a laugh. "Mrs. Shinisan just arrived—..." He glances up at me as he listens to the phone. "—Yes... —Yes, of... of course."

"Please, follow me," he gestures to me. I comply wordlessly, letting him lead me through a translucent and glassy corridor. I spot the numerous vibrant green plants outside, wondering how the architect designer ever thought of such a fresh idea. The end of the way is another closed room where an elevator waits for us.

When we get inside, the lift's panel only consist of a keyhole, where the boy inserts the key and twists it up. The elevator closes and begins its ascension. I don't even know to which floor we are heading since there is no indicator.

"You seem to be even more nervous than me." The boy jumps at my voice, staring at me with wide eyes.

"So... Sorry," he mutters apologetically.

I grin despite myself. Somehow, the irony of the situation makes me feel better, and I'm thankful for that young and inexperienced receptionist.

"How comes you're acting that way?" I ask.

He stares at me a little longer, brown eyes peering up at me. "It's just... I feel a little overwhel—..."

My phone rings once more, cutting him in the middle of his explanation. Aoi's name flashes up on my screen, and I finally answer. Only, now is not the time, so I make it quick.

"Aoi? I'm sorry but I have a serious appointment right now, so I can't—..."

"Misaki!" Aoi cuts me. "Please, just listen to me..."

The panicky tone in Aoi's voice makes me worry. "Uh? Yes?"

"Your blonde wolf in his tailor suits, you know?"

"His name is Usui Takumi, how many time do I have to—..."

He stops me. "Whatever! You know, he actually..."

"—Mrs. Shinisan?" The receptionist's faint voice rises up, catching my attention. "We've arrived already." He motions me to follow him. I mutter my apologies, and step out of the elevator, trailing behind the young man. Elegant rippled and glassy double doors stand in front of us, with the conceited but brilliant Chief Executive Officer sign adorning it.

How improper would it be to walk into an CEO's office appointment with a phone conversation going on? I chuckle, considering that my clothes are already unsuitable for the occasion.

"Aoi, I really have to hang up, I'm sorry," I whisper into the phone's speaker. "Call me later."

"WAIT," he hurls, but it's already too late as I press the call off.

As the young boy excuses himself and leaves, the door swings open before I can pull it myself. It makes me wonder whether that person even has a door valet or something. But I can't delve on it any further, because some grey eyes —and features I came to know the two past week— look down at me right then.

"Aren?" I blink, seeing my ex-driver —and ex-comrade in crime— hold onto the door.

He doesn't say a word, but his smile is gentle. He steps back, inviting me inside. The office is all glassy walls, the sky stretching beyond every floor to ceiling crystal clear window pane. And then, everything stops.

My heart freezes.

Because when the CEO's leather chair turns around, a familiar sight and voice spear my senses. Sandy hair, a defined jawline, and a sharp designer suit stretching over that lean form...

Not to mention those forest eyes pinning me down.

It feels like I'm choking inside.

"I'm glad that you remember my driver's name." Takumi Usui's voice is like honey trickling down scratchy paper... Akin to his fingertips brushing the side of my neck. It's been so long although hardly a week has passed since then. Despite it all, his proximity reminds me of all the little things I kept bottled up inside.

His smell.  
The warmth of his skin...

Eyes opening for the first time in the morning.  
Fluttering heart, knotted stomach.

 _Desperately craving a hug._

 _Remembering how good he looks in a suit._

 _Bedhead hair, nervous giggles._  
 _Lazy afternoons..._

But it all breaks, crumbles and shatters.

"I do share some hope that you haven't forgotten my own, Ms. Ayuzawa," he adds, pacing up to me.

He stretches his hand in a courteous handshake as a smile graces his lips. But while his gestures seem ever so harmless, each of his words pierce through me many, many daggers.

 _You've been played, Misaki._

When he sees that I don't reply, his smile turns into a simple grin. "Maybe did the cat got your tongue?" He suggests, and the insinuation is not lost on me.

No, it is perfectly clear.

 _The mouse just got caught..._

 _Game Over._

—

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _Updating right before the 'next week' finishes, heh :D !_

 _Ahhh, a few people were trying to guess about Takumi and weren't so faaar from the truth...  
Yes, Takumi was the client, but he was much, much, much more than simply being the client, right? ;)_

 _I'm really looking forward to your reactions about this! I've been thinking about this turn of the plot since MONTHS ago! :D_


	12. Twelve

—

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter twelve.  
_ —

 _Hands coated with  
Dirt and Blood._

 _Lies and Deception._

 _You knows it all.  
And yet, all you do is close your eyes.  
_

—

* * *

—

I'm on the brink of breaking into pieces, wavering between shame and anger, shock and indignation. That bitter sweetness of a well-deserved betrayal... Of all the emotions that drown out my senses, my rational thoughts take the best of me.

 _You've really been played all along, Misaki._

Putting on my mask, I push back all the raw feelings threatening to surface; threatening to show him how weak he makes me.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Usui Takumi," I answer with a fake-as-hell smile. Taking his hand between my sweaty palms, I firmly shake it for a second. But he doesn't let go when I end the gesture. He only stares back at me, clutching my hand and assessing how much damage his introduction had just done.

Leading me to the glassy desk, he slides the chair back for me to sit. His hand still holds onto mine, the touch ever so familiar.

Squeezing it one last time, he drops it and circles the desk to his righteous seat. It just feels like another game has began, but this time, he has the upper hand and he knows it.

He has all the power, the money, and maybe even my heart in his palms whereas I'm left with nothing. As he eases into his leathered chair, propping his ankle on his opposite knee, he dares me to look away.

He still looks as good as ever.

Fresh. Smart. Healthy.

 _Did you ever care about me?_

I'm probably sporting deep shadows underneath my eyes and a sick complexion to my skin.

"What can I do for you?" His head tilts softly, his fingertips brushing his lower lip. The charcoal and delicious suit he wears follow his movement, the fabric sliding effortlessly.

He's the epitome of sexy and bachelor CEO, isn't he? I laugh internally, my thoughts all too cynical.

"Go die, maybe," I mutter to myself and he quietly laughs with disdain.

"You know what? I don't even want to know anymore. I quit." Getting up, I turn towards the exit. Aren stands frozen in front of the door, akin to how an earnest soldier would guard the gate to a castle.

Seems like leaving is not an option.

"I'm afraid it won't be that simple, Ms. Ayuzawa." My name spills out of his lips like a bad omen. If the dagger is still embed in my chest, then, he must be twisting it deeper because it throbs painfully, all too raw and vulnerable.

He knew it all along, didn't he?

 _That name._

No wonder he never called me 'Ayane Ravens' before.

"I believe the reason of your visit was concerns over a matter. Please, word it out, I'm all ears."

I carefully sit back down, hands resting on my lap. "I'm here to apply for a case other than the one named U.T-708," I say as flatly as I can. The mind games now leave a bitter taste on my tongue and a shattered shell for a heart.

He hums a bit, placing a sheet of paper in front of us. Reading it, I figure out it's the U.T-708 case. How original of him —the CEO of the shady company— to pay for himself to be seduced.

I never thought he'd be such a vain man.

"I'm not a vain man," he sighs, and I shift on my chair, unaware that I had voiced my thought aloud. "Everything I've done had an intention. Sadly, it didn't carry the consequences I sought."

His words prickle my curiosity; pulls it out of its cage. But still, I steer it back inside, strengthening the walls I'm building to protect myself anew.

"Glad to know," I coldly say. "I just need to get my job and leave, though."

A mixture of amusement and hurt flashes through his expression.

"Certainly."

He slides his own case application document in front of me. "So you want a case named other than this one," he taps the tip of his pen on the letters _U.T-708_ and I nod.

"Do you have anything in mind?" He asks plainly, albeit inattentively.

I shrug. "Anything other than this is fine."

What he does next makes me want to face palm: he neatly strikes it out and writes a different label instead, his handwriting sleek and precise.

"Satisfied now?" He offers me a hopeful grin that I don't return. Disbelief is written all over my face.

"Why, Ms. Ayuzawa? The name has changed just as you asked for."

All I want to do is bash his head over the table. Maybe that would put some sense into his thick skull.

"... You know that what I meant wasn't this." My jaw is clenched tight, my palms slamming flat on the desk. I can't help it, my temper just takes the best of me.

"All I want is a case other than _YOURS_ , do you get that? I don't want to see _you_. To hear your _voice_. To have anything to do with _you_!" I clamor, finding myself more worked up than I possibly planned.

He sits through my defiance, his eyes downcast on the paper and a crushed smile faintly curling his lips.

"Why not? I don't see what's wrong with it." He leans in. "In fact, I believe that we've spent two wonderful weeks together."

Does he want me to go ballistic and mad? If so, in the pace he's heading, he might just get what he wishes...

"Because you're a damn liar. A disgusting asshole. A supreme jerk," I snarl rudely as his eyebrows shoot up higher on his forehead at each bitter words. "I don't know what your purposes were, why you knowingly assigned me to go and seduce you, but just _—... just..._ —Damn _you_!... You disgust me."

I don't pretend that I could look into a mirror and say that I had pristine intentions. In fact, maybe I'm bitter about my own way of living too. But still, it riles me to know that I've been played upon when I was the one supposed to deceive him.

I motion to leave, sliding my chair back. But I barely have the time to see Aren blocking the double doors that I'm already pulled back onto my chair.

"You don't trust yourself around me that much, huh?" Takumi asks behind me, his palms firm on my shoulders.

His shadow towers over me, tensing all my stiff limbs with quiet distress. I don't dare twitch a muscle. However, my heart beats painfully in my chest, thrumming the steadfast rhythm in my head. I feel on the edge, like a coiled spring wanting to be free... As if I had held my breath under water for too long and had to either resurface or suffocate.

It will eventually drown me out.

When he leans down behind me, unspoken fear fills me uncontrollably. My hands instantly grip onto the desk's cold glass for leverage and I bend forward, escaping all contact. As I crane my head to look over my shoulder, Takumi's palms calmly set at each side of me on the glassy surface and traps me between him and the desk.

"I'm sorry."

My heart skips with shock. I shift the barest inch, and no matter how I try to stay indifferent, he knows I'm not... Because then, the tip of his nose brushes the sensitive length of my neck, eliciting a tiny and involuntary shake at the soft gesture.

I harshly jerk him off, but he doesn't falter. He embraces me from behind, hugging me tight to his chest. His scent is all around me, and it feels like I'm back to those days I belonged there. It chokes my guts, my heart plummeting to the depth of my chest.

It's like wanting to cry, but nothing spills out save for those warm memories.

When I begin to dig my nails into his skin, his grip relaxes, but he doesn't let go nevertheless.

"I really fell for you, Ayuzawa..."

I don't say anything, but he gets that tense swallow, my throat bobbing up and down. It's apparently enough of an answer.

"At first, I only wanted you to fall in love with me," he confides, but he's not done yet. Because he keeps the grim demise for the end. "Fall hard and deep, enough so that I could break you in the end. Drop you, just like you did to a certain someone."

"Erine," I breathe.

Thinking about his early cold stares when I first met him, the slap he gave me and the several voicemails Erine had left the past week, it begins to make sense. Did she want to warn me of his bitter intentions?

Did she know about me?

Aoi's secrecy, his furtive meeting with Erine after she couldn't reach me... It wasn't a simple date, no. She wanted to help me. She had told Aoi everything, made him call me to warn me about Takumi. Only I didn't listen.

"Eventually, I simply wanted you to love me for who we really were; not to hurt you with my stupid plans... But it was too late, wasn't it?"

I angle my head to his direction, facing him. He lets go of me, turning my chair and bracing himself in front of me. When he drops to his knees in front of me, his hands search mines and hold them tight.

"I should've told you days before... But I was scared. Scared that you'd just run away from me right then."

Soulful green eyes sink within my fierce ambers, desperately trying to convey something his words failed to.

"The days I went through with you were too precious to be wasted... I didn't want to lose you. —No... I don't want to lose you."

I stifle a derisive chuckle. "Well, my sincerest congratulations. My heart is broken already. I left you, but I'm a mess compared to you. Are you satisfied yet?... Or do you want me to jump down a building or something?"

"Please, don't..."

His words fade at that last syllable, his voice no louder than a whisper, a breath. It's as if the possibility weakens him, makes him short winded with dread. But since he's so good at acting, perhaps is this simply a cunning game to him. Another round. Another playground.

I find myself clutching him by his tie, tugging it up so his face comes inches from mine.

"Do you think deceiving people is a game to me?"

He wants to say something, but I cut him. My grip on his tie clenches, white-knuckling it.

"Don't you see that something backfired for me too? Eventually, I fell in my own trap. Hard and painfully. Just as you wanted. You wanted my pain? For me to suffer?..."

My vision blurs.

"Ever since I left you, it's hard to _breathe_... They say time is supposed to heal... But I can't _sleep_ , I can't _eat_. Something's wrong with me..."

His hold on my hands breaks along with my voice, raw and wet.

"...And the worse is... I don't even know _where_ to begin with..."

His hands move all over my face, weaving through my hair as he pulls me close to him, making me fall into his arms. His features are all blurry, but I really do my best to sustain my distress back. He smears one of my wild tear with his thumb.

"Shit, I'm so sorry..." On his face is the most heart-breaking expression I've ever seen. "I'm sorry."

"I don't know what got into me, Ayuzawa... You make me want to impress you, and in the end, I don't even know how to act, what to say... You dazzle me too much..."

He breathes in, our forehead touching as his eyes close at the contact.

"I'm sorry..."

I tear myself from him and stare at the ceiling instead, in a futile hope to make my tears recede.

"What do you expect me to do?" I finally ask after a few deep breaths. He looks up, and reaches for me, his lips brushing my fingertips in the most gentle and soft touch.

His forest eyes are full of faith.

"Accept my apologies..."

 _SMACK!_

I slap him across the face. My hand stings like hell and I know from the look upon his face that the slap just stings as good. And his expression... A mixture of bewilderment and shock paints his face, his jaw dropping as he cups his abused cheek. I'd laugh if I could find the strength to, but it tastes like salt.

"Apologies accepted," I say and then make the most of his stupefaction by targeting his other cheek.

 _SMACK!_

"And that one is for the time you'd slapped me... Just... Leave me alone, Takumi... Please... Don't expect me back... Seeing you hurts me too much..."

I look at him intently.

His blonde mussed hair.  
His sharp features coated with pain and midway hope.  
His expressive emeralds...

One last glance.  
One last connection between our soul before I snip the fateful thread clean.

 _These last words I'll give you. Will you remember them?_

"I hate you, Takumi... I truly do."

He distinctly flinches at the whispered words, the spark in his emeralds fading, dimming and dying in his eyes.

I stomp to Aren, and he doesn't think I have the guts but he should've known better. I grab his suits and shove him out the way, making him stumble and lose balance for a bit.

He seemingly doesn't plan to hinder my escape because no one follows to stop me. I leave the damned building, pledging not to ever step foot in there again.

The last five minutes were a mixture of angst and heartfelt emotions that I replay over and over again in my head. It's like the heavy weigh in my chest eased down, and I can finally breathe again. But it's truly a paradox, because the tears choke my lungs, and I spill them over and over, tasting salt and feeling burns on my cheeks.

When I'm outside, I glance up at the tall building, seeking his eyes. I don't find him, the sunrays' reflection on the clear glass' skyscraper reverberating back like mirrors. I don't even know which floor his office is on.

In any relationship where two people become one...

 _The end results in two half people..._

—

It's been awhile since I've ever felt so different. Is that what they call having a clean slate? Starting over without no more regrets? Moving on is maybe not such a stupid concept.

Aoi watches me warily from his bed, not understanding my sudden mood shift.

"Don't tell me she's gone mad," he breathes to himself. His head drops to his hand as he considers the idea. "I've lost my BFF over some stupid fight and she's gone mad on me..." He whimpers.

I kick him down.

"You're such an emo, Aoi."

He makes a pretend-offended face. "If I'm an emo, then, what in hell would you be?" He points a finger at me. "You're acting weird, you know that? What are you hiding? Oh and by the way, I have to tell you something about that wolf in— _..._ "

"I know, Aoi. He's your boss."

"Yeah! And it's totally fuc—... wait? What? How?" His jaw hangs open, and his amethyst eyes are like saucers cups to me.

"Met him, actually. Guess I'll be cut down pretty soon too... I slapped him twice in the face," I shrug as Aoi's jaw drops an inch lower. "But well, it's fine, I'll begin my job hunting right now. Know anyone in need of a hand? Bartending? Waiter? Delivery stuffs?"

"There are so many wrongs things in what you've said, I don't even know where to start," he stammers. "You met him!?"

"Yeah," I answer.

"And then, you slapped him."

I nod. "Pretty hard too."

"And twice," he presses.

"Yes. You know, he was picking a fight with me, sort of—... "

"Our boss. You slapped our boss."

" _Your_ boss. It's not like I had much choice, do I, Aoi?" I grin, but it doesn't reach my eyes. Aoi doesn't reciprocate, no. He just drops down onto his bed with despair.

"God save me, please..." He starts to beg blindly. "I need my job. My roommate is crazy, but I'm not. I know I'm young, but life isn't easy nowada—..."

Truly a scaredy cat. "Nonsense," I poke him. "Nothing's going to happen to you. He doesn't even know about you."

"Nothing's gonna happen to me, but it will to you. And since your business also is mine... I'm damn involved."

I open my mouth to speak but he cuts me.

"Save your bullshit," he mopes. "Gonna find you some job as you asked, and if it's not enough, just use my bank account... —No, you don't get to look at me like that, Misaki," he retorts to my hard stare.

I stare some more, but he doesn't cower.

"You promised me you'd let me help. Just put on a big smile and say 'Thank you Aoi-san for your grand and generous grant, I will be forever thankfu—..."

I step forward menacingly.

"... —yeah, whatever. Just accept it," he eventually gulps.

I sigh. "Fine, thanks," I lie, making a mess of his hair. I can't accept the money he's kept for so long, and I'm not some sort of charity. I'd rather work for my sister's health till death, because even if I take Aoi's generosity for granted, I'd never actually act on it.

Having him with me is already much more than I deserve. And he already helped me so much with the whole shady job. I do realize how easy I had it until now.

So I'll just have to work. Accumulate several part time jobs, and hope that it will be just enough for the hospital fees.

Eventually...

Maybe I should start a new life somewhere.

I eventually smile to myself, glancing at the blue summer sky stretching outside of the window of our little rented apartment.

 _Somewhere away from here_.

—

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** _

_I'm WOW-y surprised by ALL the MASSIVE feedbacks you guys gave me for the last chapt. My grin widened with every words. I cannot thank you enough, and here is my mere attempt to thank you; _a flash update _. It was meant for a week or so away, but... You guys just took my breath away and I just had to do that!_

 _I'm also surprised by the number of people having an hunch about the actual turn! You guys are so astute! :D Really, My most and greatest congratulations! ;D_

 _I have a little question for you, it's sheer curiosity that I entertain. Because I'm not sure how you guys actually 'consider' Takumi in this fic  
and I'd love to know how I happen to convey his character here :)  
_

 ** _How would you qualify Takumi in this fic? [_** _choose **2** words  max in the following list. **]  
**  
\- Affectionate  
 _\- Agressive  
_ \- Charismatic  
\- Classy  
\- Dark  
_ _ _\- Emotional  
\- Enigmatic  
_\- Flawed  
\- Funny  
 _\- Intelligent  
_ \- Impulsive  
 _\- Mysterious  
_ \- Rude_

 _If you have another word that you think would perfectly describe him, **don't hesitate** to point it out! I will put everyone's score in the next update or so ;)  
_

 _Much love, Love, LOVE Lovelies :) !_


	13. Thirteen

_**A/N:** A clear-up answers to all the very intelligent questions I've been asked. Thank you for all the inquiries, I've been thinking about them since the start of the story, and never had such a perfect occasion to point these out. Of course, I dare stress that this is solely my humble explanations, and if any disagreements arise, the rest is open to your own way of thinking! ;) _

_****_—_** Q:** What is Takumi? Is he the boss or client? If he is the boss then he must have assigned the Erine case to Aoi and Misaki... Why didn't he just cancel the job on Erine before it was issued to Misaki?_

 _ **A:** Takumi is indeed the CEO of his corporation __**_—_** _Walker_ 's business firm_ _ ** _—_** and also is the boss of the shady business that Aoi and Misaki work for. So yeah, he's the Boss. But here's the thing; I don't think a Director has enough time to sort out the plentiful of cases that are issued. Else, what would the employees be here for? *winks arrogantly* Especially if he's juggling between his 'legally correct' position, and his black-market services. So yeah, he has employees who knows absolutely nothing about him, and by the time he figured out what was going on, it was already too late for Erine._

 _ ** ** _—_** Q:** Misaki thinks that she has been betrayed and that Takumi is disgusting. But did she ever look inside herself, __what work she has been doing;_ _ _that_ she was doing the betraying job? Did she ever think about the people she betrayed? What she did in this chapter was not fair treatment to Takumi. _

_**A:** She knows she didn't have any pristine intention from the start, and of course, she knows her soul is all tainted by deceit. So yeah, you are correct; it might not be fair treatment to Takumi. But do you seriously think she'd just bow down and mutter 'Serve me right, I deserved it. He has the right to do that to me since I tried to fool him'? _  
_No. I don't think so. If I had been played just like her, and had the same temperament, I'd be furious. I'd be hurt. She trusted him to be the victim. How does it feel to know you've been grieving and feeling guilty for absolutely nothing? For someone who was the manipulator right off the start? I'm a calm person, and I know I'd be shattered. But then, that's open to interpretation. And hey... Everything is fair in love and in war, right? ;)_

 _ ** ** _—_** Q:** How will they fix things? And will Misaki try to move on? Is she going to work in Maid Latte now? _

_**A:** I dare you stay with me until the end to find out ;p_

 ** _—_**

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter thirteen.  
_ —

 _I'd rather close my eyes  
And dream of you forever...  
_

 _Than to open my eyes  
And realize that  
You've never been there._

—

* * *

—

Life is expensive.

That's my only thought as the train rides through the countryside to the city downtown, where Suzuna's Healthcare Clinic is.

The landscape stretches wide in front of me, the train's pace not quite fast enough to blur it away. My eyes stare aimlessly, catching green patches of forest and grassy lands, the dull color reminding me of a pair of eyes I left behind. As we get farther, the scenery morphs into tunnel and sand, beach and the lone sea. The train lines the sea edges, waves softly rippling against aged-smooth rocks.

I want to fish my phone out to take a picture, but I had actually left it back at the apartment; an endeavor to distance myself from all the recent circumstances. All I wanted to do was take some days off from the city life and see my sister. But maybe was it all a futile try to escape rather than an attempt to bond back with someone I had known so well before.

I eye the light grey sky, a telltale sign of the end of the memorable summer. The sun shyly peeks through the heavy clouds, the rays barely warming my skin. I'm still grateful for the comforting light it brings, though.

When the trains comes to a stop, I step down with my moderately heavy bag flung over my shoulder. The salty and fresh breeze hits my senses, and I inhale sharply. I can't think of how to describe it but it's a smell I could never forget, even though it's been years since I've been here.

 _Home._

I'm back to my hometown.

I will always know when I'm by the ocean.

The walk to the commuter bus is long and ever so nostalgic. It's been three long years since I've moved away with Aoi. Coming back after all this time is such an odd feeling. It always pains me to walk onto these pavements I used to run across as a child with Suzuna.

We didn't have a care for the world, back then.

The passing years are perhaps growing heavier and heavier on my shoulders. Feeling under the weather, I cross the road and catch the bus. It's empty and silent, most probably because it is still too early in the morning. Only some elderly are here, up in the morose dawn and tending to their usual days.

The bus leaves me right in front of the private clinic a few stations later. It is more of a resident house than an actual medical center. I slowly make my way towards it.

If only my steps weren't so hesitant...

 _It's my sister, for God's sake... Why should I be scared?_

A lump is in my throat, and no matter how much I try to swallow it down, it stays lodged there, unmoving and heavy. I close the distance, and open the main door to the Institution.

"Miss?" Comes a full of warmth woman's voice. I find her, thin and in her forties. She's as new to here as three long years could be considered as new...

"How can I help you?"

"Ah," I breathe. "I'm... Ayuzawa Misaki, Suzuna's sister."

"Oh!" She exclaims, the spark in her eyes igniting a little shed of hope in my mind. "Let's check on the register beforehand, I'm sure she'll be pleased to meet you!"

Her tone is smooth and warm, but I can't help but feel bruised by her words. It's as if I'm a stranger; as if I never met my sister before. Register log and ID card, they both are needed to ensure that I truly am the person I am claiming to be.

"Please, don't tell her I'm her relative yet, I want to tell her myself."

 _Or not ever._

All this shuffle around my identity pains me more than anything when it comes to my own little sister. Three years ago, I had given everything for her. But Suzuna never acknowledged me as her sister. She had gone mad, pushing me away with a furor I had never seen in her. She hated that person who claimed to be her sister _. "LIES!"_ She had cried, her amber eyes shut tight with denial.

That had hurt me more than I could imagine.

"Sure. Everything is in order," she smiles up at me. "Please, follow me."

I nod wordlessly, and trail after her. She leads me through carpeted corridors, and I take in the number of room we cross; the way each door are slightly different as the nametags were personalized by the families. When we reach Suzuna's room, I find out that her door tag only is the regular one without any ornament. Something tugs at my heart, and shame takes me aback once again.

I had forsaken her for three long years... And here I was, thinking she would be the answer to my problems.

How would she react?  
Would she scream at me to get out before I could even ask for her pardon?...

 _"She's different, now,"_ Aoi had said. _"Calmer... Maybe a little bit emptier. I never brought you up, but I think she might have forgiven you?... You should pay her a visit. I think you both need it... Especially now, Misaki."_

The woman opens the door, a bright smile stretching on her face.

"Suzuna-chan," she coos as she gets in. I don't step foot inside the confinement of the room. All I do is watch over the woman and my... sister.

She's all wide eyes as she takes in the woman. Pools of ambers shine back with innocence, her hair tied in a low ponytail and a slightly bit ruffled. She haven't changed at all, and her expression is sheer delight at the sudden visit.

Out of the blues, she laughs, and the sound of her voice spears me through each of my senses.

"Miss? Please, come in," the old lady motions me as Suzuna's eyes linger on my features, drinking them in...

As she would to a complete stranger.

"Ohh? A visitor for me?" She childishly points a finger at me, and grins up at the lady. Her gaze stumbles between the two of us. I try to smile, but my jaw muscles are stiff and unresponsive. _She forgot me._

 _Again._

The woman gives me a friendly prompt, slightly nodding to me. I hope my expression looks more or less like a gentle smile.

"I'm... a visitor..." I thread feebly. "Simply a visitor..."

I don't know why, but I stretch my hand towards her, too accustomed to sharing an handshake when introducing myself. Her eyes touch my features with wonderment. It glides over the bridge of my nose, the shape of my lips, the slant of my eyes...

"Simply... Visitor?" She stares at me, her lips lightly parted. I'm frozen in place, the sound of her voice a sharp slice in my heart. Every time I see her, something in me breaks a little more, gets a little heavier. Echoes of her voice ―from years ago― revert back to me.

 _"Misaki! Let's play!"  
"Onee-san! Wait for me!"  
"Oh... Misa... There's a leaf in your hair..."_

I shouldn't have had come back here.

Maybe I should've hid my existence from her my whole life, paying for her tuition from distance. Why did I even come here? In what goals? Why?

 _Because you have no one left..._

"Hello, Visitor-san...?" Her head tilts aside in question. It's a gesture I don't recognize... It's foreign in my mind and leaves a tasteless impression in my eyes. Nevertheless, the confusion quickly fades away as she offers a hug instead, her arms wide open.

 _Where have you gone, Suzu?_

I give in, and let myself be engulfed by the arm of a sister whom forgot all about her older sibling ever since her mother's death.

―

"Why are you here, Visitor-san?"

The night dropped on this countryside and here I sat on the makeshift bed ―in Suzuna's room― they had put in for me earlier.

I consider making up some rubbish, but I find no strength to. Lies. Lies. Always lies. I'm tired of that deceitful existence I've been leading. Lies had tainted enough of my soul for a lifetime already.

So, sincerity it is.

"I don't know."

It's quiet for a while. We are both staring up through the window, eyeing the moon up in the dreary sky. No stars, no hope. Only the moon looms over us, its pale light brushing our skin and drawing shadows in the unlit room.

I feel her gaze over my features. They trace my face with more precision, soaking up into those ambers that looked so alike to hers; that shade of raven she wore on her own hair. I'm beginning to regret my actions.

I don't dare to turn around and hold her eyes. All I can do is remain here, unmoving and as stiff as a marble sculpture. I'm too raw and vulnerable; fragile even.

"Mmm... Who are you, then?" She murmurs eventually.

My walls are down, stripped to the most unrefined shape I've ever seen them down to.

 _Who am I?_

A kaleidoscope of all those women I've impersonated these past three years drowns my mind.

Me, smiling.  
Me, with that seductive grin.  
Me, giggling.  
Me, acting all woman and seduction.

 _Me, not being myself._

"I don't know," I blurt, staring down at my hands.

Fingertips brush my jaw, and I'm startled by the faint contact. Suzuna had crawled down her bed to mine. The distance broke with a single touch, and I'm not sure to successfully contain the naked pain inside of my injured soul.

"You seem to be lost, Visitor-san... But tell me...?" Her next words are nothing but a whisper, wiseful sorrow embed in her eyes.

"What were you looking for, in the first place?"

 _A safe shelter for my heart._

"I..."

The word barely slips out that I'm engulfed into a warm embrace. She takes me closer to her heart and my emotions begins to flow out like they never had before. The words flood like a wild river, and I must appear as a perfect stranger pouring half of her soul all too suddenly.

 _The quiet night.  
The looming moon.  
Two lost sisters._

She had always been my anchor. No anger or frustration bleed through my lips for I could never be angry at her. No, it's another sort of grief.

It's melancholia.

"It hurts so much, Suzuna..."

I'm back to being that lost child. Salt and rain flow down and I hold on tighter.

 _Welcome back home, Misaki._

―

The weekend went down in a blink of an eye. It feels like I had barely stepped foot inside that mansion that I'm already outside, bidding my farewells to the old woman and Suzuna. I've told her all my story. The lies, the deceit, the unsatisfying life.

But she doesn't know the crucial point of it: Her.

"Thank you for those... two days," I say, standing in front of the patio in the dawn. My bag is already slung on my shoulder, my hair tied in a low ponytail. It had been a short stay, and work was waiting for me to start, in the bakery Aoi had appointed me.

"You're welcome here, dear."

My gaze lingers on Suzuna. She's remaining behind the woman, tugging on her jacket's sleeve like a child would, too scared to lose sight of her mother.

"Thank you." I tell her. There are no other words to express my gratitude for both of them, and although I search my mind for some, I come out blank. Suzuna smiles tentatively.

"If you're lost, Visitor-san... Come back here?"

And that's all I needed to feel safe again.

"Sure. I'll never forget that."

I make it back home, feeling like another heavy weigh is lifted from my shoulders. In retrospection, the journey back home was quick and safe of troubles. By the time I pulled myself out of the railway station, it was already clear morning and blue skies.

Reaching home, I wasn't prepared for what I am going to see. As I open the door, I hear Aoi's voice rise, half-reproach and half-anxious.

"Aoi," I call out as I get inside. "We can hear you yelling from the first floor!"

Two pairs of eyes blink at me.

"Misaki... You weren't expected for at least one hour..." Aoi sputters nervously. But my eyes can't leave that person sitting on the edge of Aoi's bed. Green eyes. Blonde hair.

My jaw works as I swallow bitterly, tasting betrayal on my tongue.

Erine.

"What the hell is _she_ doing here, Aoi!?" I stammer, stomping to them. "How could you lead her here, after..."

He jumps onto me, shielding Erine with his small frame as I hover over the two of them.

"Let me explain, Misaki!" He winces defensively, pushing me back for safety. "It's not what you think."

"Not what I think? What am I supposed to think, huh?" I step ahead, and Aoi closes in. "She's spying on us for Takumi!"

"―No! She's not! She's here for you and only you. She didn't tell him anything about us, Misaki!"

"Hey... Misaki, Aoi..."

"―How would you know that?!" I mock, pushing his pointed finger at me out of the way. "And it's _RUDE_ to point at people, Aoi! Didn't you ever learn any manners?!"

"―Because she told me so! She's not the type to lie! Don't you know that after all the time you've spent with her?! And you're the rudest one, yelling when there's a _GUEST_ , Misaki! Know your own _MANNERS_!"

"―Oh, please, I'm the rude one now!? You invited her in without telling me and I'm your roommate, for God's sake!"

"Ummm, please, guys..."

"―Seriously? Is that how you're going to thank me for finding you a job at Telly's? Cu―..."

And then... we're cut short in our meager argument because...

"PLEASE, GUYS? _Just. Shut. It_."

We freeze, only managing to whip our head at the scream's direction... Erine's there, standing up, hands curled into fists.

 _Huh?_

Our eyes are rounder than cupcakes and she's all red from both embarrassment and anger.

Did that sound just come out of her angel's lips? That delicate woman with that blonde framed face and the white dress? Although yeah... She might looks a little scary right now, with her eyes dark and full of storms...

"You. Guys. Sit."

She points at the bed in front of her, and we can only nod and comply, lost for words. When so much intensity comes from the person you expect less, it just puts you into a bubbly mess. And that's what I am, right now, staring with awe at the blonde lady turned into a silencing tigress.

Calm but deadly.

"Let me explain, Misaki." She sits down in front of us on Aoi's bed, the motion slick and refined as ever. Then, leaning in, she carefully looks at both of us.

"Takumi doesn't know a single thing about me being here, and I can plead you so, cross my heart."

I want to ask her: _Why should I trust you?_ But I don't. I know truth from the glint in one's eyes; I'm familiar with lies in the tone of one's voice. What's brewing within her eyes is like the silence before the storm. Like wild honesty and distinct respect.

"And I know what happened between the two of you. I have to apologize on his behalf."

I glare at Aoi. He looks away. I'm about to stomp on his feet but I feel her palpable gaze running over me, and I reconsider my acts. Recollecting myself, I glance back at her.

 _What have I done to you, Erine?_

"I should be the one apologizing, Erine."

"But I still want to be friend with you, notwithstanding what Takumi might be for you. I'm not him, he's not me. Okay?"

I nod. Finally, the Erine I know comes back, her previously serious features smoothing down to the serene and graceful ones I came to know.

She smiles almost too dazzlingly, and stretches her open palm to me for an handshake.

"Then... Pleased to meet you, Misaki."

I can only stare and shake that hand. If I thought she was that helpless sheep lost in the sea of wolves, my judgment couldn't be any farther from the truth, now.

Pleased to meet you, Erine?

―

To anyone out on the street, I'm just your average woman leading her life. But being out on that road―and heading to a honest and without duplicity job― is harder than what it seem, for a girl that had been accustomed to falsehood throughout her life. Having settled the encounter with Erine at my apartment, she had left alongside with me when I went out to my new job.

I reach the bakery a few blocks down, taking in the warm lights; the glowing gold and yellow lint ever so welcoming.

Pushing the door open, the clear clink of the bell rings above my head, catching my attention. A whiff of warm bread and mouthwatering pastry fills my lungs, making my stomach rumbles with envy.

"You're Ayuzawa?" An old man steps in behind the counter. His forearms are covered in flour, and he's wearing that symbolic white uniform every cook does. I'm momentarily disoriented as I initially thought that Tally's bakery was owned by a woman.

"Yes, I am... ?" I venture, approaching the counter. Delicious pastry are lined behind the clean glass whereas some are still resting on the counter, waiting to be showcased.

"Girl," he grumbles, before lauching my way a bundle of fabric and stepping inside the rear of the shop. "No time for'introduction. Hurry behind the counter! I have loads'of work to do in the back."

"Uh?..." I stare at the bundle, lifting it to my eyes. It's the bakery apron. I slide it around my neck and tie it in my back.

"Hurry! Clean everything up before the citizen come for their first meal."

I eye my watch, and it's barely eight in the morning. _Uh? Right now?_

"What are you waiting for!"

I hear his loud and raucous voice from the back of the shop, and I hurry behind the counter, clumsily attending to everything in need for the next half hour.

When the first customer steps in, the bell rings and I look up from whatever I've been doing.

I freeze into place.

It's a tall man in a sharp black suit. He wears some sunglasses and a headset in his ear, akin to how security men would. But there's something about him that's so unlike security men that I don't even want to start to wonder...

It's that huge red roses bouquet he's holding onto.

"Hello," I greet, trying to put a warm smile on my face. It's not hard, and for once, I don't especially aim to trick anyone into thinking I'm so ladylike or anything.

Just a smile.

"What can I do for you?"

He stiffly walks up to me and hands me the hefty bouquet to me.

"...Uh?"

"Ms. Ayuzawa?"

"Yes?"

"For you." He points at the roses he's left on the counter since I wouldn't accept them. Then, he simply leaves the store, leaving me baffled with confusion.

Mr. Tally takes a peek in the front-shop, quizzically eyeing the bouquet for a bit. He cocks one eyebrow at me, and I can only shrug noncommittally. When he sees that nothing significant has happened, he heads back into the kitchen.

My phone in my jean's pocket vibrates and I pull it out, blankly staring at the screen.

An unknown number's message.

 _'One dozen roses for each kisses we shared;  
Granted, there will be more to come in the future.  
T.'_

 ** _—_**

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _The results are now DISCLOSED! :D *drumrolls*_

 _- **Affectionate** (7)_  
 _ _- **Mysterious** (7)  
_ \- Emotional (6)  
\- Enigmatic (5)  
\- Flawed (5)  
\- Agressive (4)  
\- Charismatic (3)  
\- Dark (2)_  
 _\- Intelligent (1)  
\- Rude (1)  
\- Possessive (1)  
\- Touching (1)  
\- Impulsive (0)_  
 _ _\- Classy (0)  
_ \- Funny (0)_

 _Well, I guess I wasn't very surprised with the poll_ _ _—huh? why isn't my Takumi funny?! D: seriously guys? *sniffs*__ _ _—__

 _Kidding. Anyway; Mysterious/Enigmatic was almost a given. I'm glad to see that some of you find him affectionate. I don't know, it makes his sharp edges mellower and softer all of sudden!  
_

 _I can't thank you enough for the MASSIVE feedback! I'm really glad to get your opinion, and that affectionate touch is such a surprise for me! :)  
A little deal between us, huh; my Spring break is soon coming in, and I promise, the update's pace will definitely get better ;p!  
_

 _THANKS LOADS LOVELIES!_


	14. Fourteen

**_—_**

* * *

 ** _—_** ** _Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter fourteen.  
_ —

 _Backward in sentiments._

 _Our love is of singular ferocity.  
Beyond words..._

 _I cannot express  
Even a scrape of its surface._

—

* * *

—

The week passes in the same fashion. Bakery in the morning, delivery in the afternoon, construction and public work at night. It's a fast paced schedule, weighing its tool on my body, bruising my muscles and painfully stiffing my neck.

Sustaining is the key, and apparently, I'm nowhere near having it.

Seven long days blur through. Dozens of roses are delivered every morning by some security men, following me from place to place, lurking in my shadows at night when I lead my construction job.

Be it rain, sun or wind. Snow, heat streaks or earthquakes... They can't be shook off.

I've tried.

And I don't even know who they are from.

That was a lie.

 _Again._

Quite unfortunately, the habit won't die easily.

Both my heart and mind know who is the expedient of these clusters of bright and healthy red blooms; the supervisor of those men in black. The thought of it brings a heavy feel, the cheesy and romantic symbol they are supposed to convey not getting across the collapsing situation.

All the blood-red color manages to do is make my head painfully ache and ire my independent values.

I've come to hate red; I've come to fear my own shadow.

Words are too bitter in my mouth and the recollection of burning tears streaks my cheek every time I close my eyes.

The clear tint of the bakery's bell rises.

"Hello," I smile despite myself, straightening up.

I've fallen once again into that habit of faking my smiles. The customer returns my greeting and orders her pastries, pays up and leaves.

Eventually, the roses always end up in the bakery's trash bin.

The thoughts of him are like poison in my blood, like a drug I came to consume and love. The more I drift to him in my mind, the more I realize how unhealthy our relationship had been. Most people build their relationships on appearances. Others on feelings and passion. Sometimes on a whim we don't always understand. As fragile as it might seem, few towers rise higher and stronger, whereas some others just fall apart because of their unsteady roots.

Ours was just like that.

 _'Thinking of you. Always. -T.'_

Built on sand; the foundations were precariously close to breaking with a single breath of the wind. The tempest came with a blast upon us, stronger than ever. It blew the house of glass we had found shelter in.

Resignation is hard to chance upon. Hate cannot come close to describe the emptiness of that forsaken love. Melancholy hardly paints the thick layer of dust that has pilled upon the remains of what used to be us. My days are empty and tiresome, alike to the grey blend filling the sky on a dull day.

Despite it all, my love for him is a constant.

It won't shift, it won't bulge no matter how long I wait, no matter how much I try to ignore it. It just sits there, motionless and lonely most of the time.

Sorrowful, longing and full of surrender, my heart pretends not to know the truth. It feels like I'd been taken more than I'd planned to give.

I look at those bright and fresh roses peeking above, in the trash.

And here I thought I had moved on.

A sad smile or two.  
I gaze up to the sky.  
And sigh.

Most days, I don't recognize myself.

As I leave for my delivery job, my phone vibrates in my pocket, but I do no motion to retrieve it. It doesn't matter anymore. His words? His thoughts? He's a man of countenance despite himself.

Threading on the thin line that separates immoderate attention from a more nonchalant one, he doesn't act excessively in his gestures.

He never comes himself to give me those flowers.  
He gives me space, and yet strive to keep me safe.  
Lastly, he always leaves a reminder or two in his messages.

Pacing oneself, all he does is accurately enough to haunt me; to torment my mind and stir my heart permanently.

 _'I used to smile, and you used to be mine. -T.'_

The night has fallen, and I eye the message as I head to my handiwork job. Nights are getting longer, the temperature dropping to a chilly weather by the time I get there. The construction site is nowhere near finished, still an unorganized mess trying to shape its layout.

"Ayuzawa!" A worker calls up to me. He's an old man, working for his grand daughter's school fees. At the age of 63 years old, Daichi ―called by his peers simply 'Dai'― still is full of vitality, always helping me to lift those heavy sack of cement.

He says that it might irremediably damage my back to carry those hefty packs. I always reply that it might just break his, if he keeps pushing himself to help me out so much.

But then, he'd simply laugh back and take them two by two.

"Hey, Dai," I greet him with a wave, quickly heading to the locker room. "Be there in a minute."

Changing into that blue work suit, I slip on those thick gloves and head out, carrying sacks, lifting PVC pipes and crossbeam to the storage for the rest of the night.

In the long run, I always find myself reading Takumi's messages at the middle of the night, eyes tired after my gruesome day, my spirit beyond exhausted. Holding onto those tiny characters, they eat me alive. My long replies are all sent straight to my draft box, jumbles of incoherent words mixed up together. Sometimes, they're angry jabs. The few other time, they are a reflection of my soul and heart to the ghost that is my unsent message box.

I miss him. But the idea of us makes no sense.

Aoi and Erine both eye me with concern etched over their features.

"You're overworking yourself, Misa-chi," Aoi bitches and moans. I don't complain. I'd have exactly said the same thing as him, were we in one another's shoes.

Erine looks at me with eyes full of pity.

I avoid her gaze.

"Ayuzawa," she calls me softly, claiming back my attention. "I could help. Seriously. I have a lot of money that I don't use at all. You could repay me later."

More often than not, she was in our flat, akin to a third roommate. And thus, she happened to see things; hear stuffs. She was aware of my predicament with Suzuna's healthcare. She even knew about Aoi's closet arrangement.

Her presence was so much of a given that she now grabbed and tidied up the room without a care in the world, as if she had always done that. She also went to shop for groceries like a pro, knowing all of our eating habits and paying from her own pocket.

Thanks to her, our apartment wasn't as messy and empty as it should be, since I was too busy to clean it up myself.

"Nah, no worries. I'm doing fine. Thanks, Erine. You're already doing so much for us." I say with finality. I feel their gazes on me, but they don't answer anything, knowing that this discussion would end up as it always did.

 _Deaf on both ears._

―

The beginning of the new week begins again, and the pattern changes. Some people walks up to me, offering me a rose. A smile. Kind words. Praises.

 _Disgusting lies._

"You are very pretty, young lady."

"That," a woman hands me a box of chocolate, "is for you."

"Here are some beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman."

By the time I hit the bakery, my arms are full with gifts given from absolute strangers. I give it all away to the charity next door.

My day goes on unceremoniously, keeping me busy. Apart from the intense physical strain and the low income, this setup has undeniably this positive outcome of whisking my mind away from the dangerous thoughts he is.

Nearly a month after I last met him, and he's still consistent in his affections.

 _'_ _I am lost. Can you tell me which road leads to your heart? -T.'_

It's faintly raining, this night.

My rain boots are all muddy as I discharge the equipment from the truck on the site. Blaring noises come from the jackhammer on the other side of the area, and some blinding light spots light up the construction site as we wear our safety gears.

"Dai!" I shout, as he comes across where I am. "Careful of the scaffolding above your head!"

He looks up at my warning, his PVC pipe almost coming to the height of it.

"Ya, 'lil girl. And be careful of yer'own steps, it's slip'ry."

I nod, pacing up to the excavator machine feet away from me. The worker using it surely is on break seeing that the engine is on stationary.

"Where's Jin?" I shout to another worker. "His exca is blocking the way!" My voice hardly strains through the thin layer of rain.

"Uh, let me move it 'way," the worker gestures vaguely for a minute, before he comes up to the machine.

"Thanks."

"No prob'."

I compass the machine in the meanwhile, reaching the storage unit with bristle steps.

"Uff!" I drag down the sack of cement to its righteous place, before whirling around to get the other one left in the delivery truck. My sight blurs for a short beat, before recovering.

Whirling back, I make another journey, before I spot Dai and another guy struggling with a long woody beam.

"You guys need help?" I shout from where I stand.

"We 'eed to get it up the scaffold, can you get up ther' and direction the crane? Ry doesn't hear us from up ther'."

"Sure," I quickly shout back, hastily making my way on the ladder leading to the first floor of the scaffolding. It's obviously slippery and unbalanced, the muddy soil not exactly stable.

I make it to the top either way, ten feet higher than the ground.

"Ry, where's the grue's control?" I ask, spotting Ry checking out the blueprints.

"Right there," he points. "On the table."

"Thanks."

I grab it, and make it to a safe distance from the edge of the scaffolding. The handrail is pretty low, barely coming up to mid-thighs and I don't want to risk it. Dai sees me and waves at me.

"Shouldn't I ask Ry? I don't know how to use it," I yell back down, showing the remote control.

He chuckles roughly. "Nah, s'okay. Yer' bright 'lil girl. Just push the button for'it to descent."

I tentatively push the button for half a second, and the grue obeys, simply bending down. Maybe it wasn't so scary, after all.

Pushing it down again, the grue's crochet comes to their level, and they attach the appliance with quick effectiveness. The operation is all done within a quarter, the beam lifted to my level.

The men make their way upward as I begin to detach it on my own, loosening the straps. Dai and Ry help me out as soon as they get up here. But before we know it, the platform starts to sway dangerously, and I'm pushed aside. Grabbing the handrail as I crouch down, I hear a strangled yelp, and everything happens in slow motion.

Dai, loosing balance, and about to trip over the handrail.

The sound of the rain mutedly echoing in my ear, I spring up, pulling him sideway as I leap onto him. Despite all my effort, I land on my back, rolling... rolling... The handrail is not low enough to block my slide and my feet catches with one of the horizontal bar, making me trip over.

Falling.

All my muscles stiffen, and I coil my head as my arms flail, trying to hold onto something.

 _Anything._

I can't brace myself for the impact; it's like missing a step when descending a staircase in haste. Only, here, it is ten time worse. The heart just can't prepare itself, suspended with anticipation in one's lungs.

The pain is ragingly sharp, the air violently knocked out of my lungs as I hit the muddy ground on my back. I'm carried a few feet away as I roll in the mud, my mind in a hazy blur. White stars start to flash within my eyesight.

I barely hear the voices shouting my name as I try to blink, but only those white dots remain. So I just squeeze me eyes shut, willing them to go away, not daring to move an inch.

Hands are already on me, palming my arms, my legs, trying to righten my posture. I can't feel my body through, and I hope I don't have anything misplaced. When they try to make me sit, I wince painfully and they immediately settle me back down.

"...―Sir. Yes. ―She just fell from a scaffolding..." I hear someone speak briefly. "―Ten feet high. Yes."

My eyes blink hazily, my foggy vision focusing on a black suited man.

"Yes," he answers to his phone, eyeing me with demure respect. "Alright."

Dai and Ry are fast to pull besides me. And damn if I don't feel like my back's all tender.

"Lil girl! Shit. You fell. You okay?"

I slowly try to prop myself up but they stop me.

"Wait, don't move! Wer' gonna call the ambulance!"

I still manage to sit up, my face contorted in a grimace. My ribs burn with an acute pain, and my shoulder must be dislocated or something because the simple weigh of my arm in an agonizing burden to undergo.

"No, no," I hastily manage to say. "Don't. It's okay." I don't want to add the hospital fees to Suzu's bill. And then, it falls on me that the hospital bill of that mere injury might demand even more cash than I achieved to earn this month.

"Seriously, just let me sleep it off, I'm sure it'll be alright," I voice tiredly.

"You are going to the hospital."

Our gazes whirl at the voice.

"Who are you?" Dai asks to the man in suit, his eyes narrowing. The watchman simply shrugs, jamming his phone back in his jacket's pocket.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going," I answer after a small silence. "Dai, can you help me up, please," I plead, reduced to this woeful state of having to ask for guidance simply to stand up.

Dai gets on his knees, set on helping me but the man in suit stops him, a hand over the old man's shoulder.

"Don't. She's going to injure herself if she gets up."

Dai falters in his motion.

"Please, Dai," I grit, trying to get up as my limbs scream with severe resistance.

 _Damn..._

 _I want to puke._

I bite the inside of my teeth, fighting the bile rising in my throat as I shut my eyes once more. White spots crack under my eyelids.

My head hurts too, a pounding headache in the back of my skull resounding in my whole body.

"Maybe the man's right, lil' girl..." Dai concedes, staring at my tensed features after my demonstration of struggle.

"Please..." My heart falls. I want to cry, feeling like all my hard work will potentially be wasted for this single moment of foolishness. If only we had been more careful...

 _If only..._

"Please, I really don't want to go to the hospital..."

The three men keep silent, the two workers ashamed and torn between the two opposite views as the watchman is resolutely keeping his ground, waiting for the ambulance car to show up.

And when it eventually does, I feel like dying for all the wrong reasons as I'm transported on top of a medical stretcher. The rueful alarm of the paramedic car rings in my ear, deafening and gradually squeezing my heart with dejection.

―

"You're lucky, Miss." The doctor scans down the record as he goes through a last check up on me.

"It's all safe. Moreover, fractured ribs, mild concussion and a faint shoulder dislocation. Your condition will normally improve within three to six weeks of rest."

All the while he speaks, the nurse is still tending to my wound, applying ointment to my bruised back and covering it with thick bandages.

"Thank you, can I go back home, now?"

"Now? I'm positive you should remain here for at least..." He glances at his wristwatch. "―Twelve hours. Get some rest. Especially in the condition you are in."

"Please, doctor, I think I'd rather go..." I say, a hint of despair in my voice.

His eyes narrow on me, one eyebrow arched high. "I don't think that'd be wise for both of you."

My mind is pretty much set on not losing any more money than the treatment fees, though. The nurse gives me a look full of compassion.

"I have someone at home that will take care of me," I reply on the spot, trying to make my point.

He considers it for a bit. "I'll check up with the reception."

As he disappears, I let out an exhale of relief. The nurse has a little smile playing on her lips, and when I give her a questioning look, she grins.

"Is that man your husband? He's been waiting for you and asking about you ever since you got here."

"Who?"

"The man in suit?"

"Hell, no. He's not my husband. Just a... Uh... an acquaintance." I assert, shock all over my face.

She giggles, applying the last bandage, before handing me an hospital gown smelling like antiseptic.

"An acquaintance?" She gives me an expression that tells me she doesn't buy it. "Is that acquaintance also the father of your baby?"

"No, just...―Uh?"

My heart stops.

"Wh-what?"

She laughs heartily, thinking that my blush is more out of embarrassment than extreme alarm.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to judge."

"Could you r-repeat?"

"That I'm not here to judge?"

"No... Not that part... The baby part?..."

"Ah?" It takes a bit for her to understand, but at length, she exclaims, her eyes wide. "You didn't know?! You're pregnant of a month already! I hope that's a good surprise? And here I thought you knew already. It's all for the best that your baby is safe after what happened to you, maybe you should rest and... ―"

My senses shut her voice as she babbles and I freeze.

It feels like I'm choking inside. I drown in something that grips me so suddenly I don't even realize what I'm in; shock in its rawest form.

It's despair and horror coupled with panic.  
It's sheer terror that surrounds me.

And as white as the room is, it suddenly blinds me, making it hard to breathe. I just want to curl in a warm comforter, cry, and be left alone for an eternity.

―

When I bring my mind to credit it, I wordlessly shoot out of the room, intent on finding that doctor before he gets to anyone I know.

My heart's in my throat, and despite each stride that cut in each of my limbs ―or the nurse shouting at me to slow down, and even the patients staring at me as if I was crazy― I don't even give it a second glance.

I reach the waiting room with haste, struggling to keep upright as I take support on the wall. When I spot the doctor talking with the reception, I let the breath I've been holding in come out. In the corner of my eye, I see Takumi's watchman stand up, resolved to have a word with the doctor but I intercept the man in the white coat beforehand.

"Doctor! I have to speak to you, for a minute!" I say, reaching him before the man in suit does.

"What are you doing here? You must be in your room."

"Please, please," I say. However, my time has already been thrown out of the window as the curt voice of the swift man comes in.

"Doctor, may I have a word?"

"Please, doctor, listen to me," I plead, tugging on his arm. The sole motion makes a sharp ripple tear through my arm. He lets me guide him aside.

Panic embodies my breathless speech.

"Don't tell anything about me to that man. He is neither my relative nor my husband, or anything he claims to be. Try to ask for his credentials..."

When I see that the doctor's expression doesn't seem trustful at all, I interject, "Please! He's been stalking me for a while, just don't tell him anything... Okay? I have the right to keep my information private, don't I? It must be in the laws!"

"He paid for your fees, though," he answers, his tone laced with suspicion.

"He's a strange stalker, I admit, but just don't tell him anything. Please?"

He still look dubitative, but he concedes with a sigh. "Well, Miss, if that's what you wish. Now, get back to your room, alright?"

"If you don't tell him anything..."

"I won't tell."

"Thank you..."

And somehow, I glance over my shoulder, seeing the man suspended to his cell phone in a corner of the waiting room. He's watching me and the doctor intently as he speaks, his expression unreadable.

Fear grips me again.

 _Usui Takumi._

He wouldn't come, right? I tell myself, as I warily pace back to my room. The thought scares me to the bones. It's been nearly over a month I haven't seen his face. A feeling alike to mourning nostalgia overflows my heart.

For one full month, I've lived a life that deceptively seemed removed of him. And yet, he was still everywhere; he succeeded in taking care of me when I got hurt, in making sure I'd be safe at night. He offered me flowers every morning.

 _He is the father of my..._

The thought makes my heart prickles, my eyes sadden.

I feared him as much as I hated him. In spite of that, I loved him unequivocally. It was a fact etched in my bloodstream.

Praying to any God ―willing or unwilling― I hoped I'd not see that blonde man stalk in the hospital in the next twelve hours.

 _Else, I didn't know what mistake I might make... Again._

 ** _—_**

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _Writing this fic kind of breaks my heart everytimes :l_

 _Thank you for the encouraging reviews, you guys keep me on my toes._  
 _I'm now on my 2 weeks holidays, so expect more.. uh...life from me?_

 _Thanks, my lovelies!_


	15. Fifteen

**_—_**

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter fifteen.  
_ —

 _Without artifices,  
Your presence scares me._

 _It frightens me because..._

 _I'm uncertain,_

 _To trust  
Myself around you._

—

* * *

—

Everyone is lost in their mind, quietly breathing without a sound. Silence prevails, save for the clock ticking. It echoes loudly, filling the room with the unsuspended flow of time.

Aoi came as fast as it takes to pull a sweater over his pajamas when the hospital called him in the dawn. Erine trailing fast behind him, they managed to negotiate with the reception to let me out, despite my doctor's instructions.

I do remember the look upon their face when they first entered the bright room, taking in my disheveled state.

"Sorry," I had murmured, unable to look into their eyes.

All those bandages and bruises looked worse than they actually felt. But that probably was because of the gut-breaking news that struck my soul... And by that, quite harder than any fall could possibly break me.

 _Except maybe falling for Takumi,_ I bitterly smile with retrospection.

And now, here I am, sprawled over my bedcovers as the other two quietly muse in their whirling thoughts. Standing in front of the window ―his posture hidden by the curtains― Aoi is gazing out to the pale morning sky whereas Erine sits on his bed, her spine stiff. Her stare is blankly set on a slab of the old wooden floor.

I simply eye the silent couple from where I lay on my bed.

The atmosphere is heavy, weighing on a peace of mind that never showed itself for a long time already. Alike to a mournful morning where the death of a cherished someone looms over the sky, I close my eyes just not to cry.

Thoughts fuse in the thin air, clear as spoken words.

 _How could we let that happen?_

Obviously, they do feel guilty. Irrationally so. It's not anywhere near their faults, though. They tried to help. They really did... So why would they blame it upon the innocents they were?

"There are more of them, now," Aoi eventually says, speaking of the men in suit lurking in the adjacent street. His voice is uncharacteristically low and devoid of life. My ways must've affected him more than he willed to reveal.

This past month had carried as much weigh as one long year on us.

"It scares me..." My confession is raw and tender, coming out as a gruff murmur. The sole thought of Takumi walking in, looking at my miserable state makes me want to retch the plain porridge I've managed to ingest so far. Too vulnerable to try to fight it off alone, I pour what's left of me in those whispered words.

"I'm scared..." I repeat with difficulty. "I'm scared that he might come... That he might see me just like this. I'm a mess... I really am..."

And somehow... The simple thought of it would break me, wouldn't it?

Erine swiftly jumps to my bedside, pressing my hand between her delicate palms.

"No... You won't break. You'll get stronger each day," she says genuinely. "And I shouldn't tell you... But he's still stuck in the US for about a day or two. Told me he cancelled all his appointments to return earlier..."

 _For you,_ she avoids to mention, but it hangs in the air.

"Two days..." Aoi words slowly. "If I were him, I'd have taken the plane already," he grits through his teeth, still eyeing the streets from his standpoint.

I laugh joylessly, before it starts to slightly hurt. Hence why I stop myself mid-chortle.

"Don't say that. It gives me some time to prepare myself."

"You gonna let him see you?"

"I wish I had some choices, Aoi."

"You always have choices." Erine asserts softly.

I sit up, wincing a bit. I can move and walk. Even run. But the sharp pain in my shoulder blades would rise with each of my motion, not to mention the uncomfortable and sore feel breathing now is. Bending is such a pain too, I figure out as I stand up.

"I have to go." Getting up, I stalk towards my clothes closet.

Aoi turns my way, crossing his arms. "Where to?"

"Bakery."

"You're still planning to go to work? I already told Tally that you put the day off."

"What?... Why?" I struggle to put the T-shirt over my body, and when I realize that lifting my arms in more than I can tolerate, I pick a button up shirt instead. "I can't afford losing my jobs just like that."

"Then, I'll replace you until you get better."

"No."

"Misaki." Erine admonishes.

"No."

"Misaki... Let us help."

Before I can answer, a sudden rush heats up my neck, making me light headed. I dry heave and quickly tumble to the bathroom before I actually puke on the wooden floor.

I hurl over the toilet bowl, kneeling on the cold tiles as Erine gathers my hair behind me, Aoi loudly gasping at the door's threshold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He exclaims unceremoniously.

Erine softly rubs my back. "Shhh..."

"Just... kind of sick..." I say in-between dry heaves. Erine eyes me with a look but keeps silent for the moment.

A derisive huff on Aoi's part follows.

"Kind of sick?...Seriously? For Lord's sake, Misaki!" He hisses with ire, before stomping back into the main room, leaving Erine alone with me. I don't understand his sudden anger directed at me, and somehow, it just makes me gag harder.

"What's with him..." I mutter after the sick churning feeling has settled down.

"We read your medical record, Misaki," Erine admits.

I freeze.

"Y-you read it?"

Her eyes answers on behalf of her words. I hastily begin to stand up, flushing the toilet and splashing some water over my face, in my mouth.

"You need some rest from all of this, Misaki. Let us help..."

Something bubbles up in my heart but I shove it down.

"No, no." I breath slowly. "Sorry... I really need to go."

Erine's distinct sigh lingers as I walk out to get ready for my job.

―

"Ayuzawa?" Old man Tally looks at me with a surprised glint in his eyes. A young boy is standing behind the counter next to the baker.

"I'm here. Sorry for the... false notice." I say jerkily, hoping he doesn't notice my stiff movements.

A grumble is his answer. "Nah, 's fine."

The boy hands me the bakery's apron before running off outside. I faintly smile, both surprised and a little confused.

"Nephew," Tally answers before getting in the back.

When I walk to the front store to switch the open placard face up, something feels off outside.

"Mr. Tally? What's happening today?" I yell loudly, my eyes fixated in front of me. He makes it to me, flour covered and looking as busy as ever.

"Nothing's, why?"

I gaze warily at him, pointing my finger through the front shop window.

He looks perplexed.

A herd of slick black cars are parked in our street, with people dressed all too casually swarming out of the vehicles. They're of all kinds; old or young, women or men.

"Don't know... Nothing's supposed to happen... Open the shop anyway." He goes back to the kitchen as I comply, opening the door and putting the signboard outside with some hardship.

When I head back inside, the men start to move towards their car, retrieving something.

Soon after, they return with red roses. Dozens of them.

"What in hell..." I murmur with disbelief, clutching the counter for safety purpose.

I want to call the mastermind but I can't, since my phone is most likely in my construction site's locker.

In it's clear tilt, the bell rings. More than being a comforting knowledge of an upcoming customer, it fills me with an unsavory kind of dread.

"H-hello," I say tentatively to the people walking in. In such a strange display of mindful manners, they remain set in line. The first one in queue steps up.

"Morning, ma'am," the former replies. "Here are some flowers for you."

I eye the roses he delivers.

"Uh... Thanks?"

"Also, he wishes to tell you that you must rest, Ms. Ayuzawa."

I frown, but before I can reply, he lets the second person take his stead.

"Mouthwatering pastries, ma'am! Here are some flowers for you!"

They continue swarming in and out, retrieving more flowers in their car before going back in line and telling me to not push myself. The counter is soon covered with those roses, and no matter how many of these people come in, they do not buy a single thing.

Mr. Tally watches the gibberish unfolding before him. The massive queue scares all potential customers away, and we can't really sue those people eagerly depositing their flowers as they have all their rights to browse the pastries without buying anything in the end.

"Please... I'm grateful for the wonderful flowers but if you could leave us work, rather than do that..." I say weakly, my stiff spine beginning to ache.

My words fall on deaf ears.

 _So that's how it feels to be ignored_ , I fathom, thinking of Aoi and Erine's dwindling faith.

"Young woman, you need to rest," a grandma says, giving me a red rose. She winks before stepping out. I give an anxious glance at Tally. His mouth is set in a thin line, displeasure etched on his tired features. He stands there, witnessing for already two long hours the circus going on.

I know what he's thinking.

 _It's all your fault._

"Mr. Tally," I deadpan. "I just... I don't understand what's going on..."

"You've been receiving those exact same roses ever since you came here." He gives a nod toward the bakery's trash bin full of roses. "Maybe I should give you a day off or two to put at ease the man courting you."

My heart shakes with fear, but I capitulate, knowing pretty well that my stay here would only destroy his family business.

"Thank you for your hospitality," I say reluctantly, loosening the tie of my apron. I want to cry and punch something, but both actions are inappropriate for the current circumstances.

"I guess I quit... Good luck, Mr. Tally." My wry smile doesn't go unnoticed, because the old man just steps up to me and offers me a rare smile.

"Come back when you will be settled," he says softly. "You're welcome here, young girl. Stay safe."

When I head out, I don't go back home. Letting both Aoi and Erine know of my failure at work is a direct proof to their words full or warnings. Instead, I just wander around, sitting at a street bench until my second job schedule arises. The afternoon sways in view and I slip on my delivery company's jacket.

All the items to deliver are oddly set to the same place. I get into the car of my fellow truck-driver and we head into the direction of the written address without struggle.

Until I begin to recognize those roads.

We stop in front of a residence hidden by thick vines climbing up high and ornamented fences. My feet fail me. They won't let me get out of the vehicle because my mind has put two and two:

Takumi's mansion.

The one Erine had led me in the time she bumped over me with her coffee; the one where Takumi slapped me right in the face. I still feel the burn sting my cheek, a branded reminder of his touch.

The recollection burns my heart too.

Shit... What if Erine was mistaken? What if Takumi was already back in Japan, back in his house, solely waiting for me to step into his den?

 _What if I was feet away from him, right this instant?_

Pushing me to deliberately choose between going back to him or losing my jobs; this was exactly how the Takumi I came to know would act. With defiance, he'd let me enough space to not feel too caged. Yet, letting me forget that ―no matter what― I'd forever be in his hands, wasn't in his considerations.

 _'You won't escape until I say so.'_ He had once said.

"Jack, I'm s-sorry," I say shakily to the driver. "I can't deliver these boxes there... A-actually, I have some place to be. Sorry, bye..." My lies are sloppy, and even I can notice that. I'm certainly losing my touch, aren't I? I'm becoming bad at the only thing I was decent at.

 _Lying._

I open the truck's door and step out, dejectedly heading back home.

―

Surprisingly, doing nothing has more than exhausted my body. Hitting back home, Aoi is apparently nowhere to be found. I sigh in relief, wordlessly collapsing onto my mattress.

A light weight sinks down next to me.

"Are you okay, Misaki?" Erine asks kindly. Her fingers thread in my hair, untangling the wild strands.

"Honestly?" I mutter in my pillow.

"Have I ever asked for anything other than that?"

Rolling her side, I close my eyes.

"No." It's a tired whisper. "I meant, ―no, I don't feel well."

"Tell me something I don't know?" Although the words sound ironic, they cannot retain any malicious edges coming out of Erine's lips. Only pure and unblemished concern.

"You already know everything, Erine."

"How so?"

Our conversation is slow paced, minutes flowing between each answers. I sluggishly exhale a long, long breath as her fingers softly caress my hair.

"You only act as if you didn't."

She hums contemplatively. "Really?"

"Yes..." I murmur eventually.

"Then, I surmise that you must feel pretty awful."

How casual.

"My feelings exactly," I chuckle bitterly, opening my eyes. I gaze at her, at her delicate features.

Her porcelain skin.  
Her signature white dress and elegant laces.

And that makes me wonder how could such a soft and fragile lady ever succeed in helping a sloppy and broken girl like me.

Shifting on my back, my head tilts her way. We stare at each other for long seconds. The forest green of her irises coupled with the dusky sunset reminds me of better days.

"How do you plan to help me, Erine?"

She keeps silent, her attention reverting to the mediocre sunset view our flat window overlooks. Her gesture is everything I need of an answer.

She doesn't know what to do. That's why she looked away.

 _...She can't help me._

I smile bitterly, before my vision starts to blur. Folding my arms over my eyes, I just quietly laugh to myself.

"There's no wrong admitting that you cannot do much more than comforting words, you know?"

"Misaki. I really can help but..."

"How so? By paying everything up for me? Make me in your debt? What is it?" I whisper harshly. "And what's going to happen if..." My voice slips as I sit up. "―If he knows?... How could you help me with that?..."

A breathless sob. "You know that I can't have it, Erine... I really can't..."

She firmly takes my hand, encouraging me to look into her eyes. They're also full of tears, as if my pain was also affecting her in more ways I could possibly believe.

"I'll take care of you. I know someone with a quiet cottage on the seashore. Come with me."

"I... I can't, Erine... He's going to find me anyway..."

"Just take a few days off this life... Misaki. You really need it. And not only you..." Her eyes descend to my flat stomach, and my hand automatically come to cover it.

Her lips curl up, but it's so sad that it crushes something in me.

"You both need it."

Breaking down, I crawl on her knees, holding onto her waist; onto the fabric of her white dress. I cling at her, my head pressed against her belly. Her fingers draw in my hair, softly caressing it like a mother would to a child.

"Why would you do all of that? Tell me, Erine, because I'm lost." It's all too heavy. The guilt. The grief. The fear. "And... I haven't even apologized for everything I did to you. Will you forgive me, someday, Erine?..."

"It's already been done," she smiles faintly, tears trickling down her own face. "That's what friends are here for. Forgiving, isn't it?"

It's been so long... My hold tightens as the taste of salt touches my lips, seals my heart and mends my soul. Selfishly, I picture my deceased mother instead of the nineteen year old girl, holding me to her heart.

And yet, out of everything falling down on me; what scares me the most is that pair of eyes kindred to Erine's.

―

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _You, my dear readers, are brilliant.  
_ _Thank you always for your encouraging and thoughtful reviews._

 _Next update on the spectacular day of  29th Feb. ;)_


	16. Sixteen

**—**

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter sixteen.  
_ —

 _If I were the sea,  
You'd be the water.  
_

 _You taint me...  
Of your natural colors._

—

* * *

—

Erine's incredibly smart.

My mind's blown by the ruse as I walk out of the flat's complex, dressed as a flashy golden boy. Baggy pants, baseball cap and leathered jacket, I don't look at all like the woman those watchdogs are supposed to follow. I'm just a punky blonde boy with his latest lay clinging at his arm.

Erine's dolled up as an equally flashy red-head, her green eyes now of a brown quality because of some colored contact lens we found in Aoi's closet. She's unexpectedly smoking hot.

 _Why didn't I think of disguises any sooner?_

We make it past some men, pretending not to notice them although we are overly conscious of their presence. Erine's clutch on my arm tightens with alarm when one of them shifts, but it's a false alarm; he's only eyeing his watch.

I bend down to her ear.

"Where to?"

"The grey car," she whispers back, her eyes set in front of her.

I spot the aforementioned car, an old sedan in its versed glory. The keys are already on the contact.

"You can drive, right?" She asks me with a murmur. I nod, slipping in the driver's seat as she mirrors me on the opposite seat.

Once inside the vicinity of the vehicle, we both exhale a sigh of relief. Turning on the ignition, the beat up vehicle grumbles and I laugh, pulling us out of the narrow street.

For the first time in a long while, I feel as free as a bird, and damn if that doesn't feels great.

Erine smiles back at me.

―

The drive is longer than I expected, and Erine makes us constantly stop because of my conditions. I wouldn't mind forcing myself though. A sore back and a stiff spine is not even close to dying. It's just an unwanted pain. Furthermore, driving at night doesn't sound all that safe to me.

"Are we soon reaching the place?" We're speeding through the highway in the pitch black night. The traffic is smooth and sparse, a waving flag that we've strayed far from any affluent city.

"Yeah," she voices in her red-head splendor. We're still undercover, by some means. The only change is that she had removed the lens, the feeling uncomfortable on the long run. "I think we're one hour away from the town. And―..."

Erine's phone doesn't stop ringing, Aoi's name flashing more than often on the screen. She lets it buzz, her mouth clamped shut by the interruption. Aoi must be going crazy in the apartment by now. We left him a word on the counter and I'm sure he's just frustrated because he wanted to participate in the stratagem.

"―And?"

"And maybe I should call our host to give him a notice."

I almost trip down on the brake but I don't.

"You haven't told your friend yet?" I murmur exasperatedly.

She shrugs. It seems like Erine's quite the carefree spirit against all appearances. Granted, the current image fits her temper all too perfectly.

"It's no troubles anyway," she answers. I nod, before my attention is caught by the highway signpost coming into view. My heart clenches at the sight and right on cue, Erine points a finger at it.

"Take the next exit."

I bite my cheek, before releasing it and murmuring in a low voice, "alright."

Curbing the exit lane, I drive through familiar paved roads, the sound of waves crashing in the far away background a lull in the dark night. I pull my window side down, feeling salt and brine brush my skin.

"I love this place," Erine remarks. She too has pulled down her window, gazing at the stars, at the horizon where skies and seas meet.

I can only agree.

 _My hometown._

"Where to?" Instead of voicing my deep-inner thoughts, I want to close my eyes at the bus stop I've taken several weeks ago to meet with Suzu.

"It's on the outskirt of the town, follow the main road... Yes. This one."

Fortunately, the place she leads us to is on the opposite side of where I used to live. The fact is an incredible relief to my aching heart. We ride up a lonely hill, thick norway maples lining the sandy roads. A small cottage appears, lit up by honey lights and a warmth that'd be too precious for words.

My nose tickles, grief rising in my eyes. My mother always wished for a house like that. I push it back, recently accustomed with the melancholic feeling.

"It's really..." My words hang in the air, the sentence remaining unfinished. But the meaning has gotten across, and I'm thankful for Erine's quiet discernment.

"Yes..." She whispers softly after a pause. "It really is, Misaki."

Reaching the top of the hill, I park the car near one of a sleek and pristine convertible. The details doesn't remains in my mind for long, though, because when we step out of the car, I realize the area is closer to a cliff than a simple dune. The sea crashes loudly in my ear, a salty whiff filling my lungs with nostalgia.

I gaze back at the direction where we came from. The small town, barely lit here and there shines back at me with memories.

Maybe I should visit Suzu, tomorrow.

Erine's speaking with someone on the door's way, her wig off. Warm lights stream out of the house as I step up and begin to open my mouth, planning to introduce myself to our host. But when our eyes cross, I stop in my tracks.

"Who's that?" He asks Erine. She nods at me and I tentatively come closer. When the warm light overlays my features, his eyes narrow on me. "She kind of looks like Takumi's..."

"No. She's not," Erine hastily claims. "She's Misaki. Ayuzawa Misaki. Just a friend of mine, Tora."

Quite conceivably, he doesn't seem convinced by her words. But then, he grins charismatically, uncrossing his arms. His posture shifts to a more welcoming one.

"Well, ladies? Don't let me make you wait out there. You must be exhausted, aren't you?" He gestures, inviting us in.

Before I close the door behind me ―utterly feeling like I'm intruding on something― I can't help but take a last glimpse at my hometown.

And sigh.

―

"Erine..."

In our room, the furniture is a set of fresh and sturdy wood, the twin bedcovers of a clean white quality. It looks so comfortable after the hours of travel that I just want to lay on top of it, regardless of my sweaty state.

"Yes?" She lightly says, busy checking the walk-in closet already full of her clothes. I frown even further as I follow her.

"What's... your relationship with... Uhh...?"

"Good friends, I guess?" she hums without a care, seemingly not planning to answer the matter any further. "Aren't you tired, Misaki? The bathroom is right there," she points to the direction of a closed door. As soon as the words sink in my mind, I feel the dark veil of exhaustion glide over my eyes. Yawning, I obey to her words and direct myself towards the bathroom.

Before I close the door behind me, I hear her say, "I'll fetch you some clothes," and I thank her gratefully.

In time, I feel much better, the hot water having soothed my aching muscles and my stiff spine. But nothing beats the moment when I press my body down onto the soft mattress, and let myself slump into sleep even before Erine steps out of the bathroom.

And my worries slip out of my head as the thoughts of him replace them.

Right in the middle of the night, I'm woken up by a deep seated uneasiness spreading through my body. Queasy and intensely feeling nauseous, my feet slide down the mattress but I'm reluctant to actually sit up. My head is heavy, my sight all kind of fuzzy.

I initially thought that pregnant women only had the morning sickness bearings... Not a middle-of-the-night-damn-intense-and-senses-wrecking headache. The concern over that ill-timed and unsafe child hovers in the room. Definitely, having a child in my circumstances seem ludicrous. An early visit to the ob-gyn is on the agenda after a visit to Suzu.

Despite myself, I rise from my bed and head towards the bathroom.

A while later, I step out, intent on switching the lights off behind me. My eyes browse the room in the meantime, noticing that Erine's bed is still unmade. The curiosity stirs my heart, but my mind is shut off. Few heavy strides and my body drops back onto my bed. I drowsily decide to ask her about it in the morning.

―

Something softly shakes my sleep away. I groan.

"Misaki?"

It comes again. "Misaki!"

I just roll around to the other side and wrap myself in the safety of my comforter.

A huff. "Geez! Don't tell me you are going to be as difficult as Aoi, Misaki!"

Blinking groggily, I shuffle the comfy blanket down my face.

"Erine..." I voice gruffly, trying to focus on her.

An unwanted grin curls her lips before she frowns.

"Breakfast is ready, and Tora's been out of the house since hours ago."

"Huh?... Okay..." I slowly sit up, my aching muscle feeling less sore than yesterday. Aside from a new pain in the low of my back due to all the driving, I'm not that far gone.

Erine's already out of the room, up to her morning occupation.

"Uhh... Erine? Where did you sleep yesterday?" I ask away, finding her in the kitchen.

Her eyebrows arch up. "In the bed next to yours?"

"Oh?... It looked... untouched."

"I just made it back this morning."

A plate of omelet is supplied right under my nose. I'm glad no pregnancy bullshit hinders my appetite because it smells wonderful.

I eye her. Then the omelet.

"...Okay," I concede smoothly and move on. "What are you going to do today?"

"Groceries. Tora's fridge always is remarkably empty. Do you want to help?"

"Sure."

And the conversation dies as we both dig in our meal, our attention escaping elsewhere.

Beyond a doubt, Erine's sneakier than her looks give her credit. She's now the golden boy as I myself wear the red-head wig, feeling maybe a little less badass than Erine was, last night. To find that out is no matter of shock at the point we are; but then, she manages to stop me in my tracks as she slips in the car's driver seat.

Wordlessly, I take the opposite seat.

"You can... drive, Erine?" I ask as I pull the door close.

"Technically speaking, yes."

I eye her dubitatively.

She resumes her explanation."I don't need a licence to drive in the countryside. But don't worry, I'm a safe driver," she smiles my way.

"I hope so..."

I give her a wobbly grin, before gazing out to the sea.

The drive to the market downtown is ―as professed― safe of any troubles. She parks flawlessly in an empty spot, the car right between the demarcation.

We shop for about an hour.

When we finish charging the car, I take a step back.

"Uh, so... I'd like to... visit the town..."

"No problem?" She eyes me with questions in her emeralds. "But would you care for us to store the groceries beforehand, though? I don't want the fish to thaw out."

"Actually... I could, uh, visit alone? No harms, really. If you need me to help, I'm here... It's just that I'd like some time alone," I add with a hint of melancholia, wishing that the emotional card would work better than the odd-tourist one.

And she actually buys it. Her eyes sadden, full of understanding.

"Of course," she murmurs softly, and I feel bad for fooling her. She lends me her phone.

"If you need a ride back home, call Tora's home number, alright?"

"Thank you."

She gets inside of the car with a last glance my way. One supportive smile later and she's on the road. Red curls rising with her departure, my wig-hair ―alike to real strands― flows with the wind as I stand there.

As soon as she disappears from my sight, I walk up to the nearest bus station leading to Suzuna's healthcare.

―

Obviously, the woman eyes me for a long time, her gaze switching from my plain self in my ID card's picture to my current red curled hair. And that, more than twice.

"I just wanted a change of... colors," I explain.

"Yes," she says. "I think I've noticed that."

Eventually, she hands me back the card. "I guess she'll be pleased with your visit?"

It's funny how people's behavior shift whenever they met someone they deem as untrustworthy.

"I'm sure she will," I passively shrug behind her.

Suzuna's wary when she sees me enter into her room. But as soon as she recognizes me, her features soften.

"You're back," she murmurs, her fingertips smoothing over a strand of red curl.

"Yes." I slowly say, my gaze brushing her hand, finding tenderness in the lilt of her wrist. Words get caught in my throat, and I hear the door quietly closes behind me, the attendant slipping out.

"Yes, I'm back, Suzu."

―

Moments later, I step out of her room and find the woman waiting for me, a notepad plastered to her heart. Eyeing the clock, it's already so late in the morning. Actually, it's way past noon. When I move to step aside, she crosses my way and stops me.

"You're Suzuna's legal guardian, right?"

"Yes," I assert quizzically, halted in my tracks.

She nods towards her desk office and swiftly heads back behind it, shuffling for papers.

"If you're here in person, here's the bill for this month and the last one." She hands me the invoice, a thin and flimsy paper.

 _So feather-light._  
 _And yet overly heavy..._

I can't help but frown as I scan the figures.

"Last month, you said? I've already paid last month."

It's her turn to frown. "I haven't received anything from you."

"By check," I put down the paper, disgusted by the expanse of the amount. I don't have enough to cover both months if her words show themselves to be true. The excess is far too much. I stagger, my hands clamping down onto the office's hardwood.

"Let me ask..." I stutter, panic closing my throat. Teeth gritting, I stalk over the waiting room, feeling the superintendent's eyes on me. I turn about, sheltering myself from the prying stare. There on, my hands frantically search for my phone, shoving inside my jeans' pockets, my jacket's... One minute later, I realize I don't have it.

My fingers land on Erine's one instead and I swing it out.

"Aoi, Aoi..." I quietly fret, looking for his caller log. I press for the call. "Answer. Please, Aoi."

 _Beep..._ ― _Beep..._ ― _Beep._

Endlessly.

On a tedious note, the phone hangs down from my ear as I make my way back towards the woman, expectantly waiting.

"I'll pay later," I say with mock-confidence. People hate to do business with weaklings. Although tears want to break free and run down my cheek, I swallow them down. Putting up a casual look, I ooze indifference.

She gauges me for a bit, before giving me a curt nod. "One week. You've never been late in months, so I'll let it go."

"Thank you." And I hastily part on these words, afraid that she'd pierce through the last-minute mask I've worn to deceive her.

As I walk down the gravelly road ―my stomach grumbling and without a single penny in pocket― I still try to call Aoi again.

Sadly, there's no reply.

"Damn," I mutter to myself. Eyeing the bus driving past me, it's another knife in the heart. I longingly look at it, trailing up an opposite hill to the nearest hospital.

"Damn, damn, and damn." I grit, nearly stomping on my feet like a mad specimen. It's a matter of bitter laughter; it's a matter of desperation. When so much is put upon your shoulder, you're just doomed to snap someday.

Nevertheless, I still suck it up, shut my mouth and start moving up the ascent to the hospital.

Half an hour later, I'm both famished and thirsty. Reaching the hospital, I push the entryway, the gate not automatized unlike every clinic in towns. The office greets me with... nothing. Simply a glance. She asks me for a name, an ID card and all the data she might requires to fill in my medical archive.

I rashly cast them upon the counter and rush towards the free water fountain I spotted in the waiting room. The first cardboard cup is finished within seconds. The next is a matter of seconds too.

Another refill.

I drink down until I scrape off both my thirst and my hunger.

When I present myself back at the counter, merely minutes after, the woman looks at me with a perturbed glance.

"What is your appointment for?"

"Ob-gyn." I reply on the spot, taking back my ID card. "A woman, please."

She doesn't nod or anything. No. She simply gestures towards the room I came from.

"Thanks..." I mutter and head there.

Maybe I hadn't paid much attention, but when I step inside the room, gazes cut my way. Obviously, my little water glutton showdown hardly blanked out of their minds. I keep my eyes downcast for good measures.

Less than five minutes of awkward silence, Erine's cellphone rings. I feel the hostile glances on me. Another pair swings at the phone restriction sign hanging on the wall. Hastily retrieving my phone, the incoming ringtone is cut with a hit upon the red button.

Several names are called before mine finally is.

"Ms. Ayuzawa?" A white coat woman strides in.

I stand up as swiftly as I can, feeling the slightest light headed ever since my stomach's empty. It's nothing unusual though.

"Doctor," I reply and follow her into her cabinet. Closing the door behind me, I soak in the white tiles, white tissue, white walls, white... everything. It's so alike to the clinic I've been in, days ago, that panic surges back in my brain.

She gestures me to sit down, and I can only comply.

"So, lady? Why are you here?" She starts off pleasantly, her focus still on her computer's screen.

I clear my throat. "I'd like to know... I'd like to know what's the cheapest way to... stop..." I falter. "―To... uh... to not have a child."

She quirks one eyebrow at me, slightly amused before reverting back her attention to her screen.

"Are you wondering about contraception methods?"

My nose scrunches. "Uh... No. I mean... I'm pregnant. I'm about one month pregnant."

"I see." She pauses. "Then, abortion might be the word you are looking for."

I want to slap myself for not finding the right word. _Abortion_. Of course.

"Yes. Abortion."

"There's paperwork to fill then," she sighs, rolling her chair back and sliding the top drawer of her desk open. Finding a precise formulary, she closes the drawer and inches back towards her desk.

"Have you been victim of sexual crime? Or do you have any specific illnesses?"

"Not that I know…"

"Alright. And do you wish to talk it through? Counseling perhaps?"

" _It_?"

"The abortion choice."

 _Ah._

"No…" I answer, remembering my nights of turning around in bed, and being torn in all my life's decisions. "I don't need guidance."

"Alright, then," she turns the paper around for me to see. "I'll ask you to sign here, and here also." She turns the next page. "And then, we'll need the ID card and approval of your partner, right here..."

I choke inside. "E-Excuse me?" I stutter. "My partner…?"

"Well, the father, if you prefer?"

 _Takumi?..._

My eyes fall on the paper. On that dreadful empty section next to mine. _He doesn't even know about it..._

"Isn't the mother's consent enough for the procedure?"

"As a general rule, a letter of consent must be signed by you and the father of the unborn child to authorize an abortion."

"Can't we do without, Doctor? Please… It might take… some time for him to do all of that…. I don't have much time."

"I'm afraid the authorization might take longer than for your partner to sign those papers, actually."

Panic surges, but I swallow it down. "Uh… Okay…" I gaze down at my sweaty palms. "And what about the price, Doctor? How much will it cost?"

"Medical or surgical?"

"The cheapest and most convenient, please."

"Medical it is. Well... It's simply a few pills to take."

Somehow, her words just take many weights away from my shoulders. And place some others right after when she names the price. I have enough. I do. That is, if I don't pay for Suzuna's welfare. Stepping out of the clinic, I make my way around the area, taking my time to mull over the thoughts in my head. My gaze is lost in the infinite horizon the sea offers me. It's blue. And blue. Stretching over blue.

And grey.

 _More blues._

Something rings after a while. Noticing people's stare at me in the small bus, I realize it's Erine's cellphone. I bring it up to my sight.

And my heart freezes.

 _'Takumi'_ flashes on the screen.

I want to ignore it. I want to bash the phone on the floor and dig my heels in it. But... I need to listen to his voice.

 _You could've been father, Takumi._

Just one word and I promise myself I'd hang up right then. He'd never know.

Pushing the green button, I bring the phone to my ear.

"Erine. I'm coming back tomorrow morning before noon. Where is she, now?"

His voice wreaks my defense away.

It's thick. Tender. A little raw; and wholly the man I fell in love with. Something breaks inside of me.

 _I miss you_ , I mouth desperately.

Memories seep back into my head, sneaking their way to my heart although the words make me fear for my life. I don't say anything. I can't; I'm rooted in place, unable to do a single thing.

"Erine?" He prompts sharply. "Are you listening, Erine?"

My eyes close painfully, and I find myself clenching my hands in fists ―so tight that my nails mercilessly bite into my palms.

A final sigh from his part and he cuts the line.

I finally exhale the breath I've been holding. Along with the tears, too.

 _What the hell am I going to do?_

―

"Please, Tora," Erine pleads for the umpteen time.

Night has already fallen on the town and I've told Erine parts of the abortion deal in my misery. If I have put aside the large sum of money I needed, I told her about the whole partner's consent story.

She had pensively looked at me, before bursting out of our room towards Tora's one.

And then...

She asked _him_ to act as the make-up father.

 _Igarashi Tora._

 _A perfect stranger to me._

And he answered...

"No."

"It's really important. And no one will know!"

Loud voices ricochet on the lavish walls of Igarashi's sitting room. I simply eye the various fancy and valuable heirlooms sitting here and there. Those age-old antiques do look pretty expensive indeed.

"No one will know?" Igarashi almost roars with incredulity. "She's Takumi's woman! Don't you think someone is _bound_ to know, Erine?!"

I peer up at them, before reverting my attention on some ridiculously heavy golden eggs displayed on a near shelf.

"Tora!" The blonde angel glares at the man. "You have nothing to lose. I'll cover it up. I promise."

He grouses. "Nothing to lose, really... Apart from the whole partnership I have with Usui? Please, I know that woman," he points at me and I behave myself, eyes wide.

"He's fucking crazy about her. Did you see the way he looked at me when I merely touched her hair? An experiment, you had said? Well, it damn concluded all your hypothesis, Erine."

Erine's eyes are insistent. "So what if it did? Can't you do just that for me, please? Why should it be about Takumi now?"

"Because it's his child, for Christ's sake!" He clamors, salvage like an angry tiger would. It doesn't seem to faze Erine, but I'm outright scared for her.

"Uh... Erine... Nevermind, really," I murmur as the two adults battle over like mythological beasts.

"Not nevermind," she retorts calmly, her cheeks flushed bright red and her emeralds glinting. "Tora Igarashi, give me your ID card now."

Staring at each others, they contest in a battle of will. Eyes narrow, unnarrow; brows arch, curl up, down, frown and scowl. It'd almost be funny if it wasn't for something so important to me. I remain unmoving as the two ancient mountain clash in silence.

"Fine," Tora says at last.

Erine smiles with pleased innocence. Somehow, her innocuous edges aren't so gullible anymore. The woman's way smarter than she lets on and I think; that's how she plays the world. We don't build wall against people we don't see the need to. And so, she strikes when she's right behind you. Right in your circle of trust.

 _What if Erine's playing with me, too? Who am I supposed to trust, in the end?_

Her palm upturned, the white dress-woman stretches her hand at Tora for the card. It's cunning and victorious, that glint shining in her forest eyes.

Must be in family ADN, I shrug.

"You owe me," are Tora's last words before he stalks off the living room and slams the door behind him. I jump a little, and Erine hands me the card.

"He forgot to sign the paper..." I sigh, looking at the thick formulary sitting on the dining table.

Erine grabs the pen and endorses Tora's acknowledgment with flawless elegance.

"Not a problem," she winks and hands me the papers. "There you go."

I thank her, my jaw still hanging on. "Thank you, Erine... Thank you, really..."

"No problem. Now, let's go to sleep. We'll head at the clinic tomorrow first hours," she smiles gently.

I give her my best one in return.

Later that night, when the house is asleep, I simply flee out of the house, my belonging slung over my shoulder, papers in hand and Erine's car key's right in my palm.

Looking back at the gorgeous cottage, I don't say sappy goodbyes like heroes in movies would. As far as I'm concerned, I'm no hero. Simply a coward fleeing the generous people that supported her.

Trust issues were never my forte, after all. Liars lie and never trust anyone. Who could stop my real nature? Certainly; I could also be labeled as a thief now. A car, an ID card to dupe the clinic and last of all... Those golden eggs heavily weighing my pocket, waiting to be resold...

I deserved all the punishment that would come later. But for now, all that mattered was Suzu's, and my own little selfish person.

—

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _Four? Five? How many chapters has it been already since you people haven't..._

 _Soaked in his voice,_  
 _Reveled in his sight..._  
 _Or longed for his touch?_

 _I miss Takumi too. My heart beats, waiting for his return. *holds on*  
_ _Please, be patient with me, my lovelies._

 _Just to tease, here's a snippet of the next chapter._

 _—  
Dark emeralds peruse me down. _

_"Do you remember me?" He asks, his voice low and thick.  
_

 _Mine just breaks._

 _"It's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember... Takumi."  
_ —

 _With Loveee, (and teaseeees)  
-J_


	17. Seventeen

**—**

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter seventeen.  
_ —

 _Of two minds,  
_

 _We are so different  
I don't even dare think about it._

 _And yet,_

 _My mind seems to always go back,  
To where it belongs:_

 _To you._

—

* * *

—

The emergency wing is virtually empty when I present myself. A nurse takes me right away inside a cabinet after the paperwork is done. Reluctantly, my strides are slowing to an halt when I notice that the doctor is a man.

But then, who am I to play the difficult one? I swallow back my pride and close the door behind me.

Old and gray, he studies the file the nurse just handed him. Typical questions are asked to complete it and he eventually certifies my medical record. As he scribes the instructions on the prescription, I stare at the two pills wrapped in a plastic, inoffensively laying on the office desk.

"Most women pass the pregnancy within four or five hours after taking the Misoprostol," he says as he writes away. His penmanship is horrible, and I stare instead at the blue pill named as he just mentioned, my eyes narrowing with distrust. "It can be quicker or longer depending on your conditions."

"Alright..."

Handing me the paper, he points at the other pill.

"You'll have to take this one right now. It starts the process as I explained earlier." I nod at his words, my mouth too dry to utter a single sound. The nurse fetches me a cup of water, and I gulp down the first pill before I can regret it.

"And twenty-four hours after it, you have to take the Misoprostol; that's the important one. You'll start aborting in the next hours if everything goes as usual."

Handing me the damned pill, I slip it inside my pocket. Panic starts bubbling up right then. All too suddenly, I can't really keep up with my pretended easy-going demeanor.

"...Of course."

He gives me a small but reassuring smile.

"Don't worry. I've given that to many women, they all came back fine after the check-ups. Come back here if you need anything, and don't forget the examination in three days."

It's still the middle of the night when I come out of the hospital. The car is parked feet away in the mostly deserted area. All I do is unlock it to take my belongings out before I leave it right there; it's not hard to follow a car plate nowadays. Therein, I make do without it and walk down the main road.

Fortunately, nobody's on the road that late at night. Thus, it's not hard to disappear off everyone's radar just like that. Nobody knows about my past life, about my old house. The closer I get to it, the more nostalgia fills my senses. I hear the faraway washes of the ocean, the salty ebb of the tides...

And I tiredly walk closer to my destination, my feet heavy as exhaustion waits on my doorsteps.

Half an hour later, my mother's home comes into view. Waves crash loudly in front of me, echoing in my head, in my body. I can't see anything, save the pale stars sprinkled in the ink black sky. The house sits on the dark seashore, unkempt and bleak-looking. Nobody comes here; the resident here always feared the ghosts and the dead.

It hurts to see all the waste and detritus line the beach with abandon... It had been a secret haven for both Suzu and myself, a long time ago.

 _And my mother._

She used to walk every morning on that small stretch of grey sand. We didn't have much, but it was all we needed, back then.

As I step back to the entryway, I search for the key of the desolated house. It's still hidden behind the window's store, left untouched except for rust and dirt.

The unlocked door creaks open with a long teeth-grinding screech. I silently enter, the darkness swallowing my small frame as I cross the threshold. No lights and probably waterless, it ought to be less than the basic necessities for my short stay but that hardly mattered.

Taking in what used to be my life, I find out it's all bare, our furnitures ―and thus our memories― missing. I'm taken aback for a second before remembering that we had initially tried to sell the house when my mother passed away. Nobody wants to buy the house of a dead person... Especially when she died on the sea, which is exactly what the house is facing.

Endless sea.

Somehow, I still succeed in thinking of Takumi as I uncover the sorry state my family house is in. For a beat, I think about his precious brick penthouse, back in the City.

"Truly, we do not fit..." I laugh bitterly.

My steps are slow, my fingertips grazing the thick dusty walls.

My room ―that overlooks the dull beach― is empty save for a mattress pulled up against the wall. Wisely, I decide to air it out beforehand. Come what may, I still wouldn't appreciate sleeping on a bed-bugs nest.

Pulling my windowed bay open, I bring out the mattress and start the minimum cleaning I can manage with what I have. I proceed to pull my sleeves up, tie my hair in a fast ponytail before giving signal to the long night to start ticking.

In what feels like hours later, the house is already in better shape. I'm remotely satisfied, and although there's still work to do, my muscles are sore, my stomach raw from not eating or drinking much. Sighing, I gaze out. Perhaps have the whole cleaning cut off my perception from the exterior because the sun's already washing the night away.

The picture is breathtaking. Or at least, it should be, but I'm too exhausted to entertain such reflection. My head's been swimming as soon as I sat down on the wooden edge of the porch facing the sea.

It feels like the end.

How many hours have passed already?

I want to sleep.

My stomach hurts.

I decide to take on my brain's warning and head back inside. I don't completely close the window bay, leaving just a few inch to air the room. Laying one of the clothe I brought with me on the floor, I rest just like that.

Eyes shut on the hard ground, dreams come and go in a blur. But I won't be able to recall any, I'm sure.

―

I sleep like a stone until early evening. Groggy and my body all aching from my uncomfortable ways, I sit up and look around. Eyeing my watch, it's already past seven. I rummage through my hold-all bag and find the canned food conserve I've bought yesterday behind Erine's back.

 _Erine._

My thoughts fly to her as my heart prickles. If she truly intended to be my friend, I must've hurt her so much with my distrust. She must be searching for me all over the town by now. Sadly, people are hardly friendly to strangers here... Especially if they're rich-looking individuals.

Sitting back against the wall, I gaze out at the sea, eating canned food as if nothing's wrong. As if I wouldn't be losing what's inside of my guts in the next hours.

Less than ten hours left and I'd have to take the next pill. My hand unwittingly slides to my pocket where the pill rests.

 _Where the pill is supposed to rest._

It's gone.

 _It's damn GONE._

My heart stops and I shoot up, standing up. My food's long forgotten as I shove my hand in the other pocket.

Not there either.

Shit, damn.

 _Damn._

 _SHIT..._

I want to freaking cry and hurl everything I can against a hard surface. It's... Torture. Hot patches rise up my skin as I begin to sob, and I feel like tearing my eyes out because now's not the time to cry.

I should never cry, I'm not a damn prissy woman.

 _Bullshit._

Shit... If I am, I don't even care anymore. Hot tears trickle down my cheeks, smearing the wood.

In a mixture of dread and frenzy, I try to remember my last doings as I carefully thread the wooden floor of my room, looking between the crates and creases.

 _Nothing._

My heart falls.

All my last month pay went for that single pill... All my gut-wrenching hard work. All my injuries, my back and spine getting hurt. All the things I've put up with...

And now I'm left with nothing.

Nothing but a baby that should probably never see the light, because all it's going to see is darkness... At best, it would have is a gruesome life. In between my lamentations, my feet brushes against something.

My breath hitches; it's the stitch of the plastic where the blue pill is.

The plastic is lodged in between two slates of the parquet. Slowly, I extricate it out and exhale a huge sigh of relief. Then, out of nowhere, I laugh and cry at the same time. Damn overjoyed, my emotions are all over the place.

Laying down to chill out from the five most intense minutes of my life, I stare at the blue pill that dangles between my fingertips.

"Damn pill," I grit. Then I chuckle, wanting to punch myself.

Why the hell am I talking to a pill?

Now that it is in my palm, I'm never letting it go.

―

That night, I'm battling with myself. It's two in the morning. Or two in the night? The pill is in my right hand as a plastic bottle of water is clutched in the other one.

It's been one hour since I tried swallowing down that pill.

I can't.

 _But I have to._

I remember putting it on my tongue. I gagged and spit it on the spot.

 _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

It's all in my damn mind. It's... _messing_ with me.

Drawing me in and pushing me out.  
Yes and No.  
Do it and Don't.

Full of contradictions; tirelessly so.

It's exhausting to war with yourself. To feel lost for words at your own thoughts. _What am I supposed to do? Why? How?_ The only answer that comes my way is silence.

 _Obviously._

Life couldn't be more pathetic than it already is. I take back the naive thought right away. Of course, it's going to be harder... If you don't gulp down that pill.

 _Or shove it down your throat._

I take a deep breath.

I take the pill... And drain almost the whole bottle of water, gulping the water to wash the satanic tablet all the way down. It's desperate. It's miserable to see, I bet.

But it's even more agonizing to live.

I'm... ending his life.

 _It's for your own good. Always. I'm sorry._

Unsteadily, I throw myself on the filthy mattress I've laid down hours ago. Curling on the makeshift bed, my arms wrap around my knees as I cry myself to sleep in that tiny fetal position.

"Tomorrow," I tell myself, my voice raw and no louder than a whisper. "It will all end tomorrow, Misaki."

The night is punctuated with sharp pangs on pain, sore feeling down there and... Cramps.

I'm slipping between consciousness and jittery slumber.

Cold sweat layers my skin and I'm stuck between an icy weather and a burning hot sensation. They don't balance; there's no middle ground to this hot and cold feeling. My hand searches for the thin blanket I've just kicked out, but to no avail do I find it.

Opening my heavy lids is too much of a pain... I drop the attempt to move after a long minute of agony.

The pain keeps thrumming within my blood.

I want to yell because someone's continuously battering the back of my head. My voice won't come out though. It's hardly louder than a breath. I shift the slightest. I wince a whole lot... And then, my throat hurts from the cry.

All in all, it might actually my heartbeat that drums the life out of me, knocking my brain down with each pulse. How ironic is it that what brings me life also carries so much pain with it? No matter how much I want my heart to stop beating... It'd be counterproductive by all means.

I harshly clutch my head throughout the night.

 _It damn hurts._  
 _Why does it hurts so much..._

Everything fades into black.

―

It's such a foreign feeling.

Fingers gently brush my damp hair sticking to my forehead. The touch is so delicate, as if it was afraid the faintest pressure could bruise me. And it's warm. Just the right amount. When it stops, my heart instantly drops. The loss is too much grief to bear and I immediately feel bereft and forlorn. If a heart could, it would be crying.

Desperately.

So I plead for it to start again... I pray with torment.

 _Please, don't stop... Please... It's been so long..._

My mother used to do that. Soothingly caress my features when I slept. Slowly ―so as to not wake me up. She'd do that...

The caresses slowly resume and I lapse back into slumber.

―

The sound of waves crashing is unusually louder than it should. In my foggy haze, I do remember closing the windowed-door, muting the tide's rush away. Why is it so bright? I sigh with abandon when a hand proceeds to smooth one of my strand back behind my ear.

It's so comfortable, lying here...

My head's on a pillow.

 _Or legs?_

It shifts an instant, confirming my thoughts. My whole relaxed body stiffens on the spot, triggering a halt in the lazy pattern of the hand in my hair.

"You're awake."

Maybe I'm hallucinating.

I want to cry, because that voice is all I dreamt about. My eyes flutters open and I'm floored by those familiar features that should've been foreign to me; a blurry mix of blonde and gold, followed with beige and two emeralds dots.

I wrench my head aside, avoiding his precise gaze.

Even when I squeeze my eyes shut... The scent of him ―expensive cologne and freshly ironed suit― is unmistakable and reminds me of his immediate presence. My heart shatters into tiny fragments.

Blinking again, I sluggishly try to clear out the watery rise trying to take over my expression. It's humiliating; being found like this, sleeping on decades old mattress and in such battered circumstances. My eyes blink several times to swim through the mist my tears leave behind. He must've seen all the misery I've been living with. He must've scrutinized every single inch of this dilapidated room, from the stark and rugged timber to the deep fissures running across the walls.

There's no use comparing any further. I feel immediately bruised and dirty... And I realize that I've been sleeping on his thighs all along. Too weak to sit up right now, I just remain there.

The next thought is absurd...

"Misaki. Look at me."

Could he had been sitting here all night long?

 _Tending to me?  
Pulling me onto his laps?_

I cynically laugh to myself.

 _I'm no match, Takumi. Face the truth._

I must've worn out his patience, because a heavy sigh empties his lungs all the while it fills the room. His fingertips push against my chin, forcing me to look his way.

Impassible, his face looms over mine. He looks as good as ever. Fresh. Healthy. And that permanent scowl he wore on his face the first days I met him? It's seemingly back to life. His strong jaw ticks as he stares down at me. In his eyes is a sinister glint I hoped never to befall on me again.

No such luck.

Is he angry?

Is he mad?

"Do you remember me?" He demands. His voice is low and thick, each words cutting as sharply as splintered glass.

 _How could I not?_

I want to brush the back of my hand against his sharp jaw. I want to feel his skin, his warmth.

"It's hard," the words difficultly spill out. "―It's hard to forget someone who gave you so much to remember, Takumi." I choke, my voice hoarse and dry.

Silence fills in for a beat.

Then, his fingertips skim along my jaw, my cheeks, just as though my answer succeeded in easing down his ire. But despite all appearances, I know his self-control is barely sustaining with his next words.

"Excellent." His intonation holds blame, a rooted storm stirring in his eyes. It sets his jaw tight again and ignites a spark of fear in my heart.

"And you're angry," I whisper back, trying to stretch my hand out to him... Just to feel whether he's real, or simply a figment of my damn bat-shit crazy imagination. My fingertips brush his forehead. The deep frown etched there eases down the slightest.

"Yes, I am." His cold voice bites at me. "At you." And yet, although he claims to be angry, I can't feel it in his gestures.

He deeply exhales. "You first disappeared from my sight with Erine. But at least, you had someone with you." His voice is tired, nonetheless carrying a hint of steely resolve. It weighs down my heart with shame.

"And then, just as I manage to get my hand on her, what does she tell me?" It's a rhetorical question he offers me. Humorless emeralds hold my gaze and my expression turns into a stifled wince at the anger reflected in his irises. "That she lost you. ―She fucking lost you."

His voice thickens... Shows me something raw, something vulnerable. His fears. The intense and powerful Takumi I drew in my head hardly had any fears, less of all did he ever endeavor show them.

"Do you know how angry I was? How scared that made me?" He leans down, his fingertips smudging the tears forming at the corner of my eyes. "You put yourself in danger, Misaki."

I can't speak, his tone hitting too close to home. Shame cloaks my throat, words unwilling to spill out for they'd sound cheap in all the display of undeserving affection he grants me. He knows that much because he simply goes on, dauntless and complacent in all his splendor.

"If something had happened..."

The brief and sad smile curling his lips fades with his next words, replaced with all the steel hardening his features again.

"I would never forgive myself."

―

* * *

 _ **Author's note:**_

 _As I told many who asked me questions in PM, I like to see Misaki and Takumi in a more realistic light than the idealistic one the anime/manga paints. I thrive to only keep the core of the character, not the overly Tsundere'ness Misaki embodies, the transparent emotions and thoughts, or the too-good-to-be-true Takumi. Please, nobody truly is like that. Else, they must be faking it. Everyone has flaws, and everyone is grounded by the society in some ways.  
_

 _That being said, I remark two main concerns in your reviews, and I'm glad that you word them out! (I'm really grateful for all your insights, by the way!)  
_

 _First about the abortion.  
_

 _I know that not many fic approach that delicate issue in depth. Having a child is considered as sacred and Misaki, as she would, should fight to death to bear her child. But that might be the issue here...  
_

 _―Fighting to death._

 _I'd like to point out that having a child in her conditions is totally out of mind. This might be a story where you guys expect a happy ending, where you think 'Oh, but anyway, Takumi is rich, so no problem for the baby future.' But hey. Who says he's going to take care of her? Who says it's going to end well? Is the future really that predictable? Please, just look into your own life and realize that it's damn trickier than you think!  
In Misaki's point of view; she's alone. She's lost. So what? Let's say she keeps her child and deals with all the 9 month hardship. Fine... But she won't be able to work on those last two months.  
_

 _Let's be realistic: she doesn't have money.  
_

 _Should she simply starve and die along with her child?_

 _Ahh... What a fetching conclusion to that story, huh? You guys would probably hate me if I did that... And yet, that's the sad reality of many mothers in the world, unable to get their hand on abortion meds._

 _Lovelies, please, be aware that about 30% of unintended pregnancies end up in abortion around the world. Moreover, the official government statistics on abortion can hardly be considered as very accurate since physicians tend to underreport the number of abortions they perform, as a way of avoiding income tax payments. So there's a lot more than we'd think._

 _On another hand, about Misaki stealing._

 _Somehow, her pride wouldn't allow to ask for money. Do you picture Misaki begging for money? I hell do not, because I feel like it'd fall even more out of character than actually stealing the richs. Seeing that Tora has so much in his house seemed ludicrous for emotions are unstable. She's going through stress. Do you know how it is to be pregnant, and in panic? For my part... I don't. But I'm sure it's freaking alarming and mind-altering...  
_

 _―As always, this is open to discussion, and your final thoughts shall always prevail in case of disagreements!_

 _With love,  
Always._

 _-J_


	18. Eighteen

**—**

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter eighteen.  
_ —

 _Do you know how it feels like  
To be lost?_

 _Because I do_  
 _Ever since you let go of_  
 _My hand._

—

* * *

—

The lump in my throat won't let me speak a single word. Everything feels so heavy; so grim. I shift at his intensity, recklessly making the comforter slip lower on my waist.

And then I freeze.

The doctor said there would be blood...

 _Did he see any of the blood?_

Perceptible to my tensing, Takumi slowly threads his fingers through my hair. It's soft and full of tenderness. But it also contain an edge of caution.

"What is it?" He asks.

My heart clenches.

"Nothing," I breathe, propping myself up. "It's nothing..."

Before I can properly sit up, his palm curls around my arm, yanking me against him.

"Wh―..."

My face collides right in his chest, the scent of him filling my lungs. It's alluring. Even better, he wraps his arm around me, crushing me to his heart. My body is limp against him and I let him do as he pleases.

I'm surrounded.

 _Deceitfully safe._

A rough whisper rasps my ear. "A child hardly is nothing, Misaki."

"I..." I murmur against his shirt. "I'm sorry..."

Guilt submerges my heart. It eats me out alive, gnawing at my conscience as I lay here, in the arm of the man I came to both love and hate.

"Erine told me most of it. God bless her, she was in a pitiful state when you left."

Takumi presses a small kiss against my temple in lieu of an answer to my dread. His hand shifts to my waist, curling above my stomach. Beyond a doubt, he already set his mind at peace with everything that transpired.

A watery chuckle escapes me. "It's gone..."

It's quiet for a beat.

"Is it?" He asks at last, still cradling me against his hard chest.

"Yes."

He doesn't seem put off by my words, because his hold is still as tight as ever; as soft and cherishing as he always meant it to be. And then, he shocks the hell out of me, because a low rumble start off deep in his chest and comes out in the thin air.

Takumi is laughing.

The sound is rich and foreign to my ears... It curls around my senses, tickles my spine. Unexpectedly, my heart skips a beat and sprints a mile from the feverish sight.

I lean back to look at his handsome face, lit up with mirth as he smiles broadly. Within the next seconds, he takes in my serious gaze touching his features with curiosity and sobers swiftly. I'm about to answer to his taunt when his voice cuts me right before I can.

"We should head to the hospital now."

I follow his gaze. In all the time we've spent here, he had managed to pull me into his laps, letting the comforter fall from my body. Granted, a huge and wet spot of blood now smears the uncovered mattress.

Shit... Maybe I've stained his expensive suit with my blood too...

One last look at the mattress and the visual kind of makes me want to dry-heave.

"Yes, please..." I whimper against his suit. He chuckles deeply, before smoothly carrying me up in his arms in one fluid motion.

Just for the next few hours, I allow myself to take a break from hate and embrace the side of me that loves him deeply.

 _Just for a little while_ , I tell myself.

―

Outside the house, a sleek black car waits for us. The windows are tinted black, mirroring the grey morning in its reflection. A second later, the driver's door opens.

Aren swiftly opens the passenger's door for Takumi who is still carrying me, adamantly refusing that I walk alone. When Aren's eyes cross mine, he simply nods at me with respect.

"Ma'am."

I don't answer. The fresh wound of betrayal slices back open.

Takumi slides inside, mindful that my head doesn't smack against any surface as he does so. He sits me down on his laps and the car begins to drive away in silence. No matter how I tell him that I can sit alone, he still insists that I remain nestled in his hold.

Even when I tell him that I'm most probably staining his tailor-made suits, he gives me an unimpressed look and tucks my head back in the crook of his neck as he eyes his phone, undoubtedly unconcerned.

Maybe he's scared that I'd soil his upscale car upholstery. I'd never know.

―

"The father... Ah, Mr. Igarashi Tora?" The nurse asks, glancing back and forth between my medical record and Takumi. At last, we had reached the hospital, the ride charted with a long and painful silence in its wake.

The blonde man's hold on my hand constricts almost painfully. I grind my teeth together, forcing myself not to wince at the pressure.

"Of course." He stiffly lies.

His inflection is sharp; void of pretense. In fact, it heavily oozes disapproval and distaste. The woman doesn't question him any further despite that.

Every time Tora's name came up in the medical archives, Takumi couldn't stall his frustration; it leaked and pervaded over his features, the apparent displeasure getting thicker by the end of the ticking hour.

And every single time, he threw me a glare that told me I'd probably pay for it later.

 _'Withal financial interest added, of course.'_ His eyes clearly stress after another meaningful glance.

"Let me take your wife for examination," the nurse patiently smiles, mindful of Takumi's fuming mood. He doesn't even light up at the term of endearment. All he does is nonchalantly eye his expensive wristwatch and say, "Make it quick."

She nods and I stare at my feet, wordlessly following the nurse far from Takumi's scrunity.

After a minute or two of walking through endless hospital corridors, she leads me into a room and gestures me to a medical seat.

"Are you alright?"

"Just so," I slowly answer, sitting down.

She hums, the sound of tight gloves being stretched being the only source of distraction in the room.

"Is he alright?"

 _'Who?'_ The question is on the tip of my tongue, wanting to spill, but it is pointless by nature. There's no use being evasive when facts are spread right under your nose. _'Your husband, of course.'_

"I wish I knew." Following her directions, I lie down on the medical table.

"I see."

Coating her hands with some gel, she applies it on my stomach, making me wince from the unwanted chills.

"He's very handsome, though. I wish someone would look at me the same way he does to you," she smiles sheepishly my way. All I give her is a grimace. How was Takumi looking at me?

 _With hate?_

Like the way he snarled at me, the first day we met? Cold and merciless; I still do remember his eyes being clouded with anger the day he slapped me. Somehow, the memory would forever be branded in my skull, a mark burned over skin, over thoughts and recollections.

Or worse... With _love_?

 _'Every person in this world has a little thing in their life that makes them smile.'_

Just like he had gazed at me when I followed him back to Osaka? With stars and wonders, and maybe something deeper within his soul... With possessiveness, because his touch had always been nothing less than cherishing when he held me to his heart.

 _'Maybe I've finally found mine.'_

A faint smile touches my lips. "You'd be surprised to know that he was quite... Different before."

"Really?" She murmurs distractedly, her eyes fixated over the monitor as she glides the stimulator over my stomach. I silently stare at the small screen, my attention glued to the shapeless flashes of grey and black displayed. My heart slowly rises in my chest and little can any words get out of my lips no matter how bad I want to ask the fateful question.

She puts me out of my misery the next second. Casting the stimulator back on its rightful operating appliance, she yanks her gloves off and smiles like she wants to announce that I just won the main lottery.

"Well, congratulations, the procedure was successful!"

I smile back, but the weight on my heart doesn't taper off as I had wished for.

 _Too bad, Misaki.  
Too bad._

When I step back into the waiting room, the nurse quick behind me, I spot Takumi near the exit way. One hand tucked in his expensive suit slacks, he seems immersed in a phone call, his eyes slanted in a scowl and his lips a thin line shaping his mouth.

"Make it simple. Significant." His voice is stringent, absolute even. Emeralds flicking up, our eyes meet and lock. I don't move a single inch, too intent on making my expression as neutral as possible. In a blink, his jaw clenches and he turns on his heels, storming out of the hospital.

 _Huh?_

Baffled, I step ahead, compelled to follow him on instinct but the nurse catches me first.

"You have to sign this paper for your discharge beforehand."

"Ah," I stutter and sign away, not even looking at the content. On a second thought, I carefully read it ―it's nothing but a harmless discharge paperwork.

"Thank you," I tell the nurse before taking off.

The painkiller medicine kicking in, I handily manage my way out.

Takumi's lean form is already strolling to the parked car, one hand holding onto his jacket. His phone is tucked between his ear and shoulder as he opens the sleek car's door with nonchalance.

"Wait..." I say weakly before stopping feet away when my conscience yanks me aback.

 _What am I doing?_

Why would I chase after him if I've been avoiding him for so long? Nothing makes sense in each of my actions. Turning them in every light, I can't seem to grasp any logic in them. He doesn't leave me any time to dwell on it though, because he holds the door open, intently watching me. After a long second of us staring, his perfect eyebrow arches up.

"Get in." In a second, he's already climbing inside, resuming his phone call inside the car as I stand there, speechless. After another set of seconds, the passenger's tinted windows slides down.

A stern sigh. "Misaki."

I take a deep breath before speaking. Although all the resentment I carry towards him will never be erased, I gulp it down and plaster a grateful expression upon my face.

"I'm sorry," I say, glad that my voice isn't so weak and feeble anymore. "But I can't abuse your hospitality. You've already paid the bills and I'll find a way to repay you."

His eyes narrow on me with disbelief.

 _'What kind of bullshit are you playing again?'_

The forest of his eyes turns a shade somber before his jaw muscle tenses again. The shift is almost imperceptible but I know how much it means. He deeply exhales, running one hand through his thick sandy hair as he puts the phone away from his face to focus on me.

The silence is so thick despite the surroundings I could almost distinctly hear the voice speaking through his smartphone's speaker.

"Seriously?" A glint of anger stirs in his irises. His fire is ice-cold.

I give him my most innocent look. One I've perfected over the years. One I've used to deceive men like him. I do that even if it breaks my heart, even if I love his warmth more than anything in the world.

Bowing down to convey my utter respect, I feel his heavy gaze on me and hear his half-incredulous, half-derisive chuckle. I straighten back in a slow lift. He had been waiting for that just so our gaze would lock back. That's when he speaks; when he knows my attention isn't elsewhere. When he knows I can't escape him.

"I'm getting tired of chasing you, Misaki." Stinging and destructive are each of his words. It's heavy, but I've been asking for it after all. The wince I almost let out is tucked back into my heart, down my throat.

Staring at a handsome man is one thing. Watching Takumi is another. His appearance alone is seductive. But then, his aura... simply is dangerous. Alluring. It's so intense that when he takes up on you, all you want to do is hide by fear he'd see your darkest thoughts.

I avert my eyes from his. "I never asked you to."

"Indeed, you never did," he pauses, clearing his throat. "I'm officially done trying. If you want me in your life, you can come find me. Until then, continue treating me like I don't exist."

My heart drops.

No matter how unwilling my eyes might be, they still lift up to him and I can hardly hide my blown emotions. I'm a damn mess, and yet, he still manages to wreck me further. I grit my teeth.

Cold emeralds appraising my wavering response, he leans closer to the window with composure.

"Did you think I would say that?" He finally asks, smirking. One flick of his hand and the window slides back up, the car pulling away before I can react.

"Do as you wish, Misaki. You'll come back to me, eventually."

Anger floods back in my vein, hot and red. A growl escapes me as I hammer my fist on the hood of his car sliding away. "Asshole!"

"Jerk!" I roar as he's driven in the distance, mindless of the mess he's left behind.

Another string of swear words spills out, filthy and spiteful. I kick into the closest piece of rock in direction of his car. I vent, I jump, stomp my feet. I must look incredibly stupid. Rash and ludicrous. I don't fucking mind. I hate him. I hate him so damn much it's foolishly funny.

The situation is... _Moronic_ , I scoff with disdain. The word fits all too perfectly.

He really is an enraging jerk. Outrageous even. Maddening. He manages to bring out the worst of me in the most classy way and that makes me downright mad.

Somehow, I find myself laughing, my arm curled around my stomach because it hurts so much to laugh. An old lady crosses by me, before making a better bet by keeping her safe distance and circling me off instead. Her eyes dart at me with alarm as I laugh with crazed unrestraint.

I hear her murmur under her breath some verses of prayers, and that cracks me up even harder. Does she think that God could save me from the man that Takumi is?

"He really is something to behold." I tell her, my tone advising. My voice is so soft I almost don't recognize it. Her eyes widens as she quickly scampers away with an insecure frown. She must think I'm seriously in need of treatment despite the hospital being steps away.

Moronic, huh?

Wait ―because I'm not finished with the morony... I sigh at last, smiling as tears fall on the floor. My voice is a whisper, and perhaps would the wind carry it to his keen ears, I don't even mind anymore.

"God, I really love him."

Somehow, I could imagine him in his car, softly closing his eyes as he'd hear me say those little words.

―

I get back to the City in the few next hours, the sun rising up in the sky. When I reach my apartment, two shadows jump over me in bristle surprise. I cry out with very poor manners.

"― _WHAT IN..._ "

"Misaki!"

"Misa-chi!"

I take a overall look at the situation. Erine and Aoi are both on the doorsteps, teary eyed. Erine's hair is all fuzzy ―as if she hadn't cared for it at all― Aoi is in a similar state, his outfit all mismatched.

I almost laugh out loud at these two fashionists having lost their touch ―but guilt is nevertheless stronger than any laughter their misery could spur.

"Where have you been?!" One asks.

"We've been looking for you all day long!" The other moans.

"Are you okay? Are you tired?"

"Have you eaten yet?"

My eyes blur at the fervent worry. I've been a fool to let them down. Fresh emeralds peer up at me as Aoi's periwinkles gawk at the slightest bit change in my features. I don't say anything. All I can give them is a slow watery smile asking for forgiveness. Wordlessly, I simply hug them back, each of my arm curled over their respective shoulders.

And my heart just melts as their hands come up and ―softly, lovingly― rub on my back, reciprocating the hug.

"Welcome back home, Misaki."

—

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** _

_c:_

 _I'm very glad that my story inspires you to think about our societal norms. I can't thank you enough for your feedbacks, and they are all enlightening. You guys sometimes share little insights of your lives which I truly find fascinating. Really; it's really diverse. I'm really in awe that adoption has saved people that I interact with in immediate circumstances. That you hold a high ground moral on this kind of wordlies issues._

 _It's like finding a ray of sun in our dull world. Maybe humanity isn't lost on our generation yet, who knows?_

 _ **PS:** I can't change the plot for I have already got the main line of it. But thank you for all your suggestions! Also, I have an update status on my profile now. _

_I have to warn you, people, that I will mostly be inactive and highly unconsistent with my updates. My life-turning exams are coming very soon... I'm actually nervous about them. Growing is such an hassle, please, enjoy your younger years for me and mostly for yourself!_

 _Thanks for all the support, lovelies!_

 _With love, as forever,_

 _-J_


	19. Nineteen

**—**

* * *

 ** _— Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter nineteen.  
_ —

 _And the smell of you_  
 _Leaves the same taste as_  
 _The light of the day slowly fading..._

 _In vermilion and tangerine._

—

* * *

—

"I swear, Misaki. I'm going crazy because of you."

I chuckle at Aoi's desperate tone. Fumbling in the apartment, I manage my way back to him and ruffle his hair as he pouts.

"You're so cute."

"I'm serious."

"I feel the same way. We're truly going crazy, Misaki." Erine butts in.

My half-smile freezes and simmers down, leaving only something heavy in its wake. "You guys know that the world is not stopping any time soon, right? But..." Inhaling a long breath, I attempt to steady myself, blinking repeatedly because my vision is all blur and water.

"I'm sorry and yet grateful," I blurt clumsily. "I'm sorry for making you go through this... And yet... ―It's a bit selfish― but you two have always been supporting me and I'm just so grateful for that..."

Erine sniffles.

"Who's the cute one, now?" Aoi murmurs, looking down because he still have some pride ―and doesn't want us to see his teary face.

They engulf me in one last hug before I head outside and resume my daily life I had put on stop for the past days.

Crossing the threshold of the building, I steer towards the main avenue. But something ticks me off, like a lingering grip on my neck, heavy and nasty. Spinning on my steps, I scrutinize the area, finding it half-empty as usual.

Shaking my head at the odd feeling, I continue down to the main alley.

―

"Hello, Mr. Tally," I say with a big and fake smile plastered upon my face. The old man is grumpy today, and I can't afford to make it worse with a sour looking face.

"Ayuzawa. What's bringin' you here?"

"Work," I word out, eyeing the empty counter and the several trays of pastries waiting to be showcased. "I want to resume my job here."

He looks down, and I can't help but notice the dark bags under his eyes, the rims creased and his shoulders slumping down in exhaustion.

"I don't mind the wages much," I lie, seeing that he seems to be going through quite a hard time. The man's stare is somewhere above my shoulder, as if he's chose to focus on anything but my face without wanting to come across as disrespectful.

He shakes his head, "Sorry girl, someone else's coming for the job already."

Something in me deflates at the news.

"Ah," I deadpan. "Thank you," I give him one last smile before stepping out. As the sound of the door bell tinkling follows me outside, a shadow flashes in the corner of my eye and almost disappears instantly.

On a whim, my feet stay rooted in the area for another half hour, and I realize that it's not my imagination playing a trick on me. Somebody's lurking in the shadow, tailing my whereabouts.

Giving the bakery one last eyeful ―nobody have come to help Mr. Tally, and the man had to put up the bakery goods on the counter by himself― I decide to move towards my next job opportunity.

And the event follows in the same fashion. The delivery clerk recognizes me, stares above my shoulder and quickly dismisses me, saying that for whatever reason, he can't take me into the job despite knowing me personally.

Flower shop, building construction office, newspapers deliverer... They all follow the same pattern.

―

I've just lost my day to nonsense.

But someone obviously didn't lose my track during all this running about.

Slipping down into a narrow alley down the main avenue, I quickly run through the web of backstreets, knowing where each intersections would lead me to. Light steps can be heard as I stop a second and pinpoint the path of my offender. Stretching my leg to sneakily trip him up, I wait with patience.

 _3._

 _2._

 _1..._

He stops right in front of me and calmly steps over my extended leg.

"Aren," I acknowledge.

"Miss," he bows down and I really want to smack his head. My heart beats with half-fury, while the other half ―initially terror for fear that my assaulter would've been a serial-murderer or something― slowly seeps into exasperated annoyance.

Crossing my arms, I lean back against the brick wall and assess the man's appearance. He hasn't even been sweating a drop.

"What are you doing?" My voice is low and growly.

Unblinking, he spills the line he has probably been rehearsing. "I've been told to make sure you were safe in all circumstances."

I chuckle derisively. "Is that the bullshit expression for 'I've been stalking you because my boss ordered me to'?"

Aren's face remains passive although his lips slightly quirks up on one side. Seeing that he doesn't reply, I continue my offense.

"You're a lousy stalker, Aren. I knew since I stepped out of my house."

He shrugs with his stiff shoulder, making the motion unnatural. "I've been told to be noticed by the target, also."

Humiliation trickles down my veins.

In a rush, I whip out my cellphone and dial the man's employer number. The regular beeps resound from the electronic device. Something in my heart turns dark when I land on his voicemail. I hang up and sigh, feeling the dark feeling simmer down. There's no use facing the man with a red-blooded countenance.

It seems like another game has started, and he has all the cards in his hands.

"Where is he staying at?" I eventually ask, my voice now calm but a tinge peeved.

Aren takes a step back. "The Riverside, miss. Would you like a ride?"

I politely decline and head back home for my car. The whole ride passes in a blur, my fingertips thrumming on the steering wheel as Aren's black and sleek car remains in my rear-view mirror's sight in all-time.

―

The view at the Riverside is no longer of sun and sparkles. The dull surface of the water ripples with the wind, and the sky feels gloomy, as if predicting the looming confrontation. Despite all the gloomy setting, the Inn still looks as comforting and cozy as ever, the wood structure reflecting the warm lights in a diffuse glow. It reminds me of a welcoming shelter in times of rain and thunderstorm.

 _Of warm memories._

I knock briefly on the heavy door before pushing it open.

As lively as always, Martha comes in a rush, and when recognition washes over her face, she pulls me into a maternal bear hug.

"Dear, where have you been!" She exclaims, and I can't help but give her a make-believe smile. She returns it with glee, although in her eyes is a sad glint that I can't define.

"Do you know where... Usui is?"

"In the basement, I believe," she answers, her eyebrows lifting in my use of his last name rather than the more intimate first-name basis. "Oh, Aren," she voices, eyeing the lean man come inside. "Please, lead her to Takumi, will you?"

He nods faithfully. "Sure, ma'am."

Giving one last glance at the lobby area, where a few individuals are seated, finishing their belated lunch, I follow Aren down the narrow wooden staircase in the back of the Inn. Slabs of red oak creaking under our weight, we quickly make our way down before reaching the timbered floor.

The telltale sound of a sledge hammer pinning wood echoes, and I grip the hem of my sweater a little tighter as I take in a blonde's lean form. He's towering over the same boat deck I had once seen. The construction seems bigger than I recalled for, the heft of the boat deck now fully shaped and put together.

Emeralds peering up, Takumi shuffles from where he is, his expression neutral and the rough fabric of his thick jeans brushes as he sits more comfortably. Aren silently fades back, making his way back up the staircase. When we both hear the cellar's door close behind him, it feels like my cue to speak.

"Are you having fun, Takumi?"

He lets the words sink a little bit, as if the wood could hear and keep the meaning within their stronghold. When he speaks, a wave of melancholy surges over me.

"Since you didn't abide to my chasing, I thought I'd make you come here on your own instead."

He sets my heart on fire. His eyes drop to my lips, heavy-lidded with something other than teases or merriment. It makes my ire climb off-charts.

"What in hell do you want from me?" I snap at him, my thoughts wildly lashing in the air with each of my words.

When he doesn't reply, I persist.

"Are you trying to make this more difficult than it already is?"

"What is 'this' referring to?"

"Us. Us not being us."

"Then yes, I am." He says, slowly standing up and striding towards me. His palms come up and brush the length of my hair aside. My head jerks at his touch and something in his eyes shifts. "It couldn't possibly be more difficult for me than it already is."

His fingertip trail down my cheek, eliciting a shiver from deep within my bones.

I freeze under his touch, and yet, I can't break from it because I know I've been craving it as much as he does. He sinks down on his knees right in front of me, his strong hand curling into my sweater all the while he gazes at me with his undecipherable expression.

But I've learnt to read him, and although I'll never be as good as he is, I know that he's struggling with his words too.

"You..." I say, on the brink of losing and yet having everything I ever wanted. My fingers thread through his blonde curls, his hairstyle a mess as if he had raked his own hands through them one too many time. I slowly pull one handful until it stings, not enough to hurt, but the right amount so he leans into my hand.

So he leaves me the illusion of control over this messed-up situation.

"I hate you... But..."

A shaky exhale escapes me, and I struggle to finish my sentence under his keen gaze. "My hate doesn't even come close to how much I missed you," I eventually concede, my head feeling heavy.

His arms come to encircle all around my waist in a strong hold, his hands gripping, grabbing, clutching at the fabric of my sweater with a possessive edge. Forearms digging into the small of my back, he pulls me against him, and closes his eyes, with his head resting against my belly and his ear flat against my abdomen.

Almost too painfully for one's soul to withhold, the stance is ever so meaningful to ignore. Strikingly intimate. My heart clenches painfully in my chest, the ache building up to new heights.

"We wouldn't have it any other way, Misaki." He murmurs, his voice rawer than ever, "After all, what is love without hate?"

And I wanted to answer, "Definitely not us," but somehow, the words were stuck in my throat, so I just stood there and clung to his head, indulging in the precious and fleeting moment of simply having him.

Maybe for one time, we should just live in the present, and not in consideration to the future. Who would've known he had been planning for the future the whole time?

―

A long while after that, he finally resumes his wood crafting. I'm still sprawled into his sitting frame, curled between his crossed legs and broad torso as he traces straight lines and geometric shapes, dark charcoal smearing upon light oak.

He had mentioned that he doesn't want me out of his sight, even for a bit. And if working in this posture must be more troublesome than anything, he hardly seems to care. He has that small smile playing on his lips whilst my fingertips linger on the sharp curve of his jawline. Somehow, I can't stop this curiosity from bubbling up; as if I were a naive cat and he was something I couldn't yet understand.

So I tentatively paw, test and venture, trying to get a reaction out of his keen focus.

When I start to place feathery touches under his chin, his charcoal-stained hands grab mines and bring them to his lips, where he drops a kiss or two inside my palms.

"Bored?"

"No," I murmur, trying to break free of his hold, somehow addicted to the feel of his warm skin and sharp edges. He chuckles lowly, his eyes ―in the dim light, soft and reverent― searching and sinking in my own.

"I'm lost, Misaki." He holds one of my hand, sliding it up his cheek. Remaining just like that, his eyes ―heavy-lidded― gaze at me.

Ever so slowly, his head dips down.

My trembling lips meet his with slow and sweeping melancholy.

"You should be," I whisper back, because the atmosphere just shifted from grins to something more solemn. Both lost, we're wandering in never-ending circles, not knowing whether the whole farce is still a game or not: whether it crossed the border into reality or if we were just carelessly indulging in a fantasy we had once found ourselves dreaming of.

His hold on my hand squeezes, entwined fingers clenching in a white-knuckling grip. "Are you planning to run away again?"

I smile bitterly, my heart hurting at the mistrust that oozes out of his voice. But it is justified; everything he says has always been so.

"What if I do?"

He squeezes my hand even harder, bringing my palm to his lips again.

"I'd bring you back here, no matter how many times it takes. Just right where you belong," ―he nips onto the inside of my hand, the sensitive skin burning. It stings just the right amount― "But I need to know, Misaki. I need to know how deep you want me to drown... How long you intend to make me swim in the dark."

He speaks as if I hold all the cards, but doesn't he know that he's the only master to this game?

Doesn't he know that he's as potent as the black ocean under a thunderstorm? That I am less than a mere musty piece of wood, barely floating in each of the waves he crests?

"Does it scare you?" I ask, my voice coming out breathlessly.

"More than you could ever think."

My gaze lingers to the wooden structure, to his calloused fingers I can feel under his touch. "Is that why you've been desperate to fix this boat? To save yourself?"

He shifts in a slow movement, pulling me to sit upright in the motion. My back is against his chest and he pulls me flush into him, his head burrowing in my hair. I hear him take one deep inhale, his lips just shy away from the nape of my neck. It tickles.

When I try to wiggle around ―in an attempt to face him― his arms cage me once again, bent on keeping me in place. Long seconds tick by as I remain unmoving, savoring his possessive manhandling, and his honest need of my proximity. But my heart feels heavy, and somehow, even if I can't see them, I realize that some dark storm must be brewing behind the forest of his eyes.

The man is so intense, you could feel the air vibrate with each of his mood shifts.

"T... Takumi?" I manage to turn around, and somber emeralds stares back at me, shadow overcast upon his features. I palm his face, cradling it between my hands, trying to soothe him with anything he might need.

He exhales deeply, closing his eyes. And when he opens them back, what he says makes my blood turn cold.

"I died once already." His jaw tightens, throat working. "But for you... I'd die again, Misaki."

―

* * *

 _ **Author's note:** _

_The man truly is mysterious in nature, and decadent in symphony._ ―

 _It's been such a long, long while - I'm sorry, dears, but most of all, I want to thank you for the numerous support you've given me; both for the story, but also with my life-altering-exams and whatnots._

 _I'll be fully recovered from that sticky hiatus in around the 15th July, so watch out then, because I do plan to update all of my stories like crazy, for your enjoyment, if not also in a way to relieve all the stress!_

 _Happy reading, lovelies,_

 _With love as there has always been,  
-J_


	20. Twenty

**—**

* * *

 ** _—_** ** _Seductress —_**

* * *

 _Chapter twenty.  
_ —

 _Out of_  
 _All the things I couldn't believe_

 _Even if you won't allow me_  
 _To share them with you_

 _I still will._

—

* * *

—

When I gaze into his somber emeralds, they're lost somewhere I can't possibly reach. The painful clench crushing my heart only constricts with fear. Why does it feel like he's experiencing the loss of somebody he'd held the dearest to his heart?

"I was only a child, back when it happened. I guess you will remember."

He gives me a small smile, well aware of my brewing confusion.

"Oshima shipwreck, twelve years ago." His eyes are keen on my features, waiting for any sign of comprehension to dawn. When he sees the dread slowly veiling my expression, he achingly holds me closer to his heart.

My lips are moving, but no sounds remotely take flight from my throat. All I can feel is the sudden dryness of the air, along with the looming desperation filling my lungs, like a cloak in my throat.

Oshima shipwreck…

The ship disaster that drowned my mother… That broke Suzuna's soul. The shipwreck that drowned my family…

"You…" My voice is gruff, my hands clawing at his dress shirt as I try to placate my swelling emotions. "You were there? You were there in 1998…"

He nods the slightest. His heart is painfully beating, the loud echoes perceptible through my own senses.

"I remember everything. The darkness of the sea, the deafening sound of the waves crashing. The screams of the people on board, and the thunder…"

His features are tense —on edge— his jaw strained.

"Even the scent…Sometimes, it overwhelms me at night. A sticky seasalt mixed with rain. It clings to my skin. No matter how much I try to wash it away, it never fades…"

He pauses, gazing at his shaky palm. Tentatively, he stretches out his fingers.

Dread sweeps over me. The whole situation is nerve-racking. I want to know, I long to. But he puts himself in a dark place I'm not sure I could save him from. That scares me.

The way he holds me gets more nervous as the second ticks, his fingers' grip on me growing tight. A light sheen of sweat layers his skin as his voice thickens.

He's torturing himself.

"It all happened so quickly. I was… in my cabin, my father locked me down there. There was water flooding the cheap floor, leaking from the door's threshold. I figured I was about to die, I tried to open the door. To break it open. But it wouldn't. I had no strength."

He takes in a rough gulp of air.

"So I screamed. I screamed like murder. I hoped someone would find me."

My hands are cupping his pale and damp cheeks, hopelessly trying to warm their coldness. A pained grimace is all he manages to give me, in an attempt to reassure me.

His eyes slowly close, his brows furrowing.

"Takumi, you should rest."

"No," he shakes his head, his brows creasing in pain. "Let me continue."

I wince, wanting to stop him, but he drowns out my plea, the waves in his head crashing too loudly. His eyes are still closed, his mind living in his memories.

"They say the most desperate only prays in their hardest times." A derisive chuckle. "I guess I was one of those. —I hoped someone would save me, even if they'd risk their lives and not make it out alive... Who had known this was what reality had in store?"

I feel like crying, but no tears come out of my eyes. Instead, it's my heart that is pouring all the emotions out. I quickly climb out of his hold and cradle his head in my arm, in a proper embrace. His body relaxes for half a beat, before trembling again.

"I wasn't prepared for it, Misaki..."

I hold him by his shoulders, trying to steady him. To no avail.

"Takumi."

He's not responding to me. Or so I thought.

"Your mother. She heard me."

My heart stops. My eyes are unable to leave his downcast frame.

"She tried to break the door. The cabin was small, the water rose too fast. By that time, I was in and out. Unconscious. I suffocated due to the lack of oxygen."

Through the surge of fear in his voice, I could lucidly picture what had happened. The yells. The small boy, whose body had just given up. My mother's desperation…

She had always been a kind and brave soul despite her gentleness…

Her selflessness.

"It felt so long after... I was in a hospital bed. They said it was a miracle. That I survived."

He lifts his head. His hair is drenched with cold sweat, sticking to his forehead.

"Somebody said a woman gave me her life coat. That she was yelling something when they'd found me, but that the ocean's crashes covered her voice."

"Takumi." His whole body is shivering, his hand clutching his chest as he tips forward, as if unable to remain upright. His breathing sounds shallow. "—Takumi."

"—There was a small girl, watching me the whole time," —He coughs, heaving— "Your sister, it appears... She hated me."

"Takumi, stop. Stop," I force his head upright. "Please, breathe. Deep breaths. Takumi. —Takumi!"

Body collapsing, his weight pins me off-balance and I barely have the time to brace myself before our bodies smash hard into the wooden floor. But to my surprise, his arms are wound around my head, making the impact weaker than expected.

"They said your mother helped me to get out," he rises up on his forearms, pinning me down with his body. "She pushed me through the goddamned door but… the boat's balance shifted at that moment..."

His eyes are glassy and somber, his breathing coming off as chopped wheezes. Uncontrollably shaking, he clenches his hands, exasperatingly trying to offset the violent trembling.

"She... She…"

It takes him a great amount of effort to lift his head. For a second, his eyes lock with mine, but they fall down, unsuccessfully keeping the link. A warm drop falls on my cheek and rolls down my lips.

 _Salty._

Tears and rain.

I never thought that tears would be contagious.

He gives me a last and rasp whisper —breaking at the edges— before his head drops down onto my shoulder, his body limp.

His voice is so quiet in the room and yet so loud in my world.

"She… didn't make it…"

My own tears quietly blend with his.

—

"He's sleeping soundly," Martha says to me with a relieving smile. Her comforting words earlier were like the warm blanket that she folded around my cold shoulders.

"Thank you for the tea, too." My hands squeeze on the hot porcelain cup, the heat forming small puffs of steam.

"You need it, sweetheart."

The dawn begins to cloud the sky of crimson colors. I revert my attention back.

"You don't seem worried, Martha."

She hums slowly, her stare set on the dusky sky. "I trust you."

Taken aback, a surprised chortle escapes my lips.

"Why so?"

"Because," she simply looks my way. "Although you have your many secrets, I know you wouldn't hurt him."

A silence.

"You are the kind of person who loves differently from the others."

The tea is incredibly clear, my reflection given back by the surface.

"You don't love often. But when you do, you fall hard."

"How would you know that?"

"I pay attention to people too," she smiles knowingly. "It's not hard to notice by the way you look at people. Sometimes, it's as simple as that. You love him, don't you?"

The word love does not come close to how I feel. The attraction has changed to something else, something more embedded in me. As through even if I ever manage to escape from him, he would always be a part of my soul anyway.

"It's far from simple," I take a long sip before resuming. "We are mismatched. I just happen to… trigger him."

"Trigger him? This is a wonderful choice of word, dear." She laughs. "I'm sure that what you deem as complicated is in reality simpler than what you believe."

The shadow of the smile she's been sporting on her lips dulls away.

"I shouldn't be telling you this, but…"

She gives a glance around the reception room.

"He's been looking for your mother for so long. Without a name or even a picture... It's hard to find anyone. And when he figured out that you were one of her daughters? That's when he drank, that other night. Do you remember?"

That day is engraved in my soul.

"I wouldn't ever forget."

A clear tint resounds from the entryway bell, causing Martha to rise up from her seat.

"I love both of you. You'll always be welcome here. Don't think of disappearing on me like that again, sweetheart," she reminds me before leaving with a loving touch on my shoulder.

My heart can't settle down, despite all the warmth I'm showered with. Climbing back upstairs to him notwithstanding, I decide to head out, grabbing my warm tea along. I silently glide to the main door, offering a small nod to Martha before pulling the door open.

Gushes of fresh air engulfs my lungs. I walk down the cobbled path, leading down towards the river stream. The grass drifts along with the windy climate, making me shiver as I pull the blanket tighter around me. My feet draw me closer to the edge of the water, its tide sweeping the shore.

I get lost in my thoughts, watching the flow drift without a care. What I picture instead are oceans, floods, and sinking ships.

Along with the screams in my head, and the roar of the thunder hitting the sea.

So that's how my mother died…

Takumi had been a witness to her last hours. From how he lived through it, he surely still blames himself to the core until today.

Who could blame a child?

All there was to blame was life.

Mother and Suzuna had simply wanted to visit my aunt that fateful day. The reason is so benign and yet, the outcome turned out worse than any nightmare.

Nightmares destroy nights of sleep.

But this shipwreck?

It destroyed a part of my life.

My aunt couldn't have cared less.

Even after I told her that they had been meaning to visit her, trying to mend the feud that existed between the two families… She said that it was only natural that bad people be punished in life.

My mother was an angel.

My twelve years old self thought that maybe God just wanted mom back in his vicinity. I would understand him; she was just that precious.

That was my way to cope with the death of somebody I adored.

Thus, although I had lost her, I had always been somehow grateful that at least Suzuna's life was spared.

Despite her conditions, she had always been the spark to my night sky up until this day. Alike to a reminder to persevere and hold strong until I would ever have time to grieve.

Not today.

My heart is beating on emptiness, my chest seemingly void of anything.

I decide to sit ashore, upon the tiny rocks that barely thrive to make me feel uncomfortable.

Everything feels so surreal lately. Breathing in the cold air, my gaze stays glued to the horizon, red and golden slashes painting the cloudy sky.

"Aren't you cold?"

My gaze follows to the owner of that voice. Takumi's standing beside me, holding a cup of tea in one hand. His other palm comes to curl around the nape of my neck, the motion soothingly warm.

"I think you're more likely to be so, Takumi." A slow smile is playing on my lips.

Since when did I naturally come to smile around someone?

Even dressed in his simple faded grey pajamas, he still has that certain aura around him. The kind that made you stop in your track and stare for a few seconds.

His gaze is fixated on the water surface. Surely has his mind just sailed to the same place I visited, minutes ago.

Recollections, water salt and violent storms.

I skim his features in the meantime, noticing how the curve of his eyes screams the obvious lack of sleep —how the puffiness of his lids betrays the path of former tears. Each line on his skin conveys hardships. When the man ages, his charisma will only remain, shining brighter in each of his deepening creases.

His mind quietly reels back to me. Nonchalantly, he sits down beside me in kindred silence. I find myself trying to share half the blanket but the length is too short. His arm drapes around me in response, pulling me closer to his side as he slides the fabric around our shoulders.

"Better?"

"Yes."

His hand is warm on my arm. And when his head leans on mine, I'm caught off-guard, his hair brushing against my forehead. His cheek is inches from my sight and I have this strange urge to kiss the sharp edge of his jawline.

So I simply do.

He chuckles, a bittersweet note lingering in his voice.

"I'm that pitiful, huh?"

I snuggle closer to him, "I'm no charity, Takumi. I don't hand out pity kisses."

He gives me a long stare, before smiling to himself in that simple grin only alluring men manage to make so singular. The attention he basks me in is magnetic.

His other hand gently tilts my chin up as he leans in into a slow kiss. It's warm and soft, a touch of comfort in a way that words could never convey.

I never dared to admit it, but other girls would certainly kill to have a sliver of what I am living. Of owning this reassurance that a confident man treasures you like the apple of his eye.

When he pulls away, his forest gaze soaks up my every thoughts.

Intent and focused.

He hums.

"What is it, Takumi?"

"Do you know how precious of a woman you are, Misaki?"

I laugh, half-puzzled that we actually share the same wavelength for once.

"I could return you that."

People do not often realize that we all are wired the same way. Sometimes, your own thoughts could be the answer you are seeking for.

Maybe he thinks the same way as I do. Maybe Martha isn't that far off.

"Of course, I'm a precious woman," he grins.

And he likes to conceal his thoughts just as much as I do.

"You're an idiot too."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You think too much."

He has the nerve to look surprised.

"What? You never realized that?" I say, my fingers picking up a small pebble. "I don't know who you are trying to save by re-building that lifeboat, but my mother's death is not on your charge."

"How…?"

"Blame life." My lips curl up with ease. "You're not the only one doing your homework."

"So…" He lets the word hang in the air for a beat. "You are associating my ship restoration to this shipwreck. Does my hobby fascinate you that much?"

"No. You do." A statement. "You fascinate me that much."

He has that jaw-dropped look on his face, before he disengages from our cuddle and hides his face between his hastily folded arms.

"You're making me blush, Misaki," he groans, his voice muffled.

I can't help the grin growing on my face. The sharp man acts like a child sometimes.

When he returns, one possessive hand sneaks around my waist, pulling me flush into him. Diving in, he gives me a throughout kiss. It leaves me breathless, with the taste of him on my lips.

"You're so much in control most of the time, that when that mouth"—his thumb brushes the wet curve of my lips—"becomes unfiltered, it's just—…"

I yank him into another smoldering kiss before he finishes whatever he's been intent to say, my fingers threading into his hair. He lowly hums in approval and I bite on his lips, hard enough so it stings.

It makes his low hum turn into an unsated growl, especially when I pull away.

In one swift motion, he has me cradled in his lap, his hand curling around my nape with swift control.

"It's been awhile," he murmurs. "You like it rough, don't you?"

Having it spelled out like this sound unnaturally abashing. My cheeks must be turning crimson at his words.

Without surprise, the satisfied glint in his eyes clearly shows his pleasure at my physical reaction. Yet, he still patiently waits for me to answer, prompting me by a raise of his eyebrows.

And he says I am the one with self-control, uh.

I risk a tug to pull him back down onto my lips but he won't just bend, his seductive grin growing with each passing second.

So I nod.

Shamelessly.

And he leans back in, giving me what I want. Always generously giving.

Before we know it, the night falls down on the Riverside. In that span of time, we have shared both laughters and kisses, words and insights…

And maybe a little piece of our hearts.

 **—**

* * *

 ** _Author's note:_**

 _*Peeks out._

 _Hello..._

 _..._

 _I'm not dead yet c:_

 _Sorry for the long wait. The story unravels just as I planned one year ago. Don't expect everything to be shed to light in a single chapter through. You will have to stick with me some time longer!  
_

 _Happy reading lovelies~!  
I missed you all terribly.  
_

 _-J_


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